Hanging Stars
by Ace A
Summary: Nerima: Things like that are easier when you're on a Hellmouth.
1. Part 1o1

Disclaimer: Ranma ½ and its characters and settings belong to Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Kitty, and Viz Video. Buffy the Vampire Slayer were created by and belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions and FOX.

Notes: This story commences approximately ten months after the Ranma ½ manga ends, and approx fourteen months after the end of BtVS. Knowledge of BtVS is **_not essential _**to enjoy this fic.

**Attention:** Political incorrectness and some swearing within. You have been warned.

. 

Prologue - Theophany

If there is any laud one can attest to when describing a void from within, as contradictory as the premise may be, it is that it is not especially distressing. Not especially anything.

Could be worse, she almost pondered mutely.

She drifted; without opinion or will… The kind of contentment that only exists beyond the threshold of full sensory deprivation, beyond any capability of experience.

Kodachi was wrong.

Death, she could have observed silently, wasn't all that disagreeable.

Certainly, while she had been alive, she would have been the first to admit that she had hoped for a life after death. How she had prayed to be reunited with her mother and grandmother. But, she saw no tunnel of light, felt no divine presence. She heard no voices.

… _Kasumi_…

Well, there was that… Strange, she hadn't imagined that the almighty would sound that shrill.

__

Shi-Huizhe… farseer.

That wasn't shrill… Oh, God…

Kasumi, please wake up!

No, Shi-Huizhe.

…Shimi-Gami?

****

Not quite.

Amusement? Then who? What?

****

An internuncio.

Inter..nuncio?

****

Yes.

Wake up! Please, god…

Why?

****

Time, as always, is short.

For me? An epistle… for me?

****

And Lin-Baorui.

… Tell me.

****

Oversoon, the vanguard will conquer the horizon.

But… we killed them… dead…

****

Merely cat's-paws.

They… Grandmother nearly…

****

Add she who will be Li-Kainu to your ranks, and others; kindred.

Can't have them…

****

She won't breathe!

We won't let…

****

Knocking on your sanctuary's door…

Light. Hurts.

Kasumi.

****

…pariahs will come…

Let me be. Safe. Light.

Kasumi.

Light. Akane… Don't want to know.

Kasumi!

W-who?

Kasumi, please…

Akane? Akane!

****

…on a night of dawn.

o-o-o

"Kasumi! Oh thank god! You're awake!"

Cracked eyelids? Effort? Racking coughs? Metallic taste on her tongue? Vision swimming?

Damn. They all led to the same conclusion.

She was alive.

Damn.

She tried to focus on the blurry form that hovered protectively above her. Blinking fresh tears, Kasumi achingly reached out with a leaden arm. _Let her be real._

Kasumi cupped her guardian's face with her raised hand. Her sight cleared as she gently wiped away a rolling tear from the lightly freckled skin. Akane? …No.

"Y…Yuka?" croaked the Tendo sister. Akane's friend nodded shakily, her voice coming tremulously. The girl appeared to be restraining herself from hugging her own body.

"I thought you were…" With a groan that Yuka sensed wasn't entirely due to physical pain – she had heard Kasumi's whispers – the prone girl abruptly reached for the back of her head with her free hand. Her probing fingers halted in their advance when a familiar voice interjected.

"Don't, Kaz. You have a concussion." The voice's attention seemed to shift, sharpening in the process. "I told you she'd be okay."

Grimacing at the effort, Kasumi shifted her line of sight to spy a balaclava-clad Nabiki, the hood tucked back to reveal a thickly bleeding lip. Her darkly dressed sister was crouched over an equally familiar figure. One Kasumi listlessly noted was motionless. The still girl's raven hued bangs were matted messily to her brow. The oldest Tendo sister's eyes widened in distress, as she realized it wasn't sweat that was adhering hair to flesh.

"Its not all hers," intensely noted Nabiki as she wiped the blood from Akane's forehead. Kasumi eyes followed her sister's eyes to Nabiki's second crimson-stained hand, desperately trying to abate the ceaseless red flow from the hematic wound between Akane's breasts. "It's not all hers."

o-o-o

Hanging Stars

A Ranma ½/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover by Ace A

**Part 1: **

**On a night of dawn**

o-o-o

Let us alone. What pleasure can we have

To war with evil? Is there any peace

In ever climbing up the climbing wave?

- from 'Choric Songof the Lotos-Eaters' by Lord Tennyson.

o-o-o

****

Thirty-two hours earlier

Sunday, September 5th, 10.45am

o-o-o

"Its not as though you obey the damn book implicitly, is it?"

"Well no…"

"So what's the problem?"

The taller figure sighed in resignation, and acceded to other's wish.

"Alright."

"Really? If I ever get Alzheimer's, you'll kill me?"

"No. If you ever lose your mind beyond all hope, I'll finish you. If that's what you want."

"It is. Seeing that formula 411 in action just makes the prospect even scarier."

"Euthanasia it then."

"Fuck that. I want you to murder me. It'll be cool! You can go on the run and shit!"

"Très drôle… someone's coming."

"Out the window with you before our secret tryst is uncovered! Make haste!"

"Oh, _shut up_."

o-o-o

_**11.03am**_

"So you'll... wait a minute! What'ya mean, 'no'?

"Just that. No money for you. Now run along."

"But…" Nabiki sighed as Ranma adopted an expression usually worn by a certain kendo practitioner when presented with evidence that his 'twin goddesses' weren't as enamoured of him as he of they: utter incomprehension. "But," repeated Ranma. She exhaled tiredly.

"But what?" she asked, boredom dripping from her tone.

"But just last month, you loaned me twice that much, no questions asked."

"Which you've yet to repay in full," she noted dryly. Wincing, her sister's fiancé managed to surprise her with his reply.

"But you always carry at least three times that in your purse."

Ranma bit his lip as Nabiki turned her previously divided attention entirely toward him. _What_ had possessed him to say that?

"And just how," she smiled with all the generosity of a hyena, "would you know that, oh 'brother-in-law' of mine?" Frozen in place, Ranma sweat as his eyes and thoughts searched the room and his mind respectively for an avenue of escape. Reluctantly, he acknowledged the lazily outstretched hand before him.

"How much?" he asked, unbidden. She held up five digits. "But I ain't got that much. Can I…?" he questioned miserably as he deposited three thousand yen into the waiting palm. She grinned unpleasantly.

"We'll just add the other two thousand to your tab. Usual interest rate. Compound, of course." He nodded,

"Of course." Without another word, he left the room.

Hearing Ranma's light footfalls pad down the corridor, Nabiki's smile disappeared. She looked forlornly at the slips of paper she held in her right hand. She forcibly jerked her gaze from the money. "Sorry, Ranma…."

o-o-o

Akane glanced absently to the porch while she waited for the line to pick up. Her father and Mr. Saotome were engaged in their perpetual shogi tournament. The receiver chimed, "Moshi moshi?"

"Eri-chan? It's Akane…"

Soun contemplated the situation before him. His position was a favourable one. A single legal move and a couple of… distractions, and he'd have old Genma in check. Not taking his eyes from the board, the Master of the Tendo branch of Anything Goes Martial Arts grasped his playing piece, and in a very deliberate motion, moved it forward one space. His hand still on the tile, he smiled to himself. He prepared to unleash his ace-in-the-hole. The old 'hundred yen coin' play got Saotome every time.

"Say, Saotome," he began nonchalantly, "isn't that -" His words were interrupted by a loud 'growf' from across the board. Huh? Where on earth had Saotome gotten the water? And since when had he been in check? Perhaps a new strategy was in order…

"Yep. No, you won't have to miss English club. Please, Eri-chan," whined Akane down the line. "Yuka has archery club and I have drama club, so we can go together… Everybody's going to be there…Really? Okay, great! Don't forget your stuff." Akane made a 'bidaah' noise at some unheard comment. "See you in school tomorrow. Ja ne.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Akane?" replied Soun, not moving his eyes from the game. The youngest Tendo mouthed 'honestly', frowning half-heartedly at her father's inattention.

"Do you know where Kasumi is? She's been gone a while…" she trailed off.

Deciding on a different piece, Soun appraised Genma's reaction with a raised eyebrow. Still in full 'shogi-mode', the moustached man answered,

"Your sister mentioned something about attending that book club of hers. Isn't that right, Saotome?" he asked, ostensibly for confirmation, but actually in hopes of a slip-up. Genma was always more difficult to play as a panda, what with Soun having to raise his eyes from the board to Saotome's signs in order to maintain conversation.

_Yep,_ agreed the sign produced by the oversized raccoon_. Book club. Or was it cook club? Or cookbook club? Y'know,_ the sign flipped_, Women's stuff,_ his eyes never leaving the game.

Steaming a little at Mr. Saotome's misogyny, Akane granted that he had brought up a good point.

"Well," she began evenly seeing neither man… martial artist, was paying her much attention, "if Kasumi's not here, I guess it's up to me to prepare dinner," she concluded, already rolling up her sleeves.

Screw shogi! This was big picture stuff.

"Now, there's no need to be hasty, Akane, dear," blubbered Soun, valiantly battling not to make warding gestures as his daughter's features darkened.

_What he said!_ Signed the panda emphatically

"Harsh conditions and hardships – such as fasting," continued Soun, stressing the word, "Teach a martial artist to be strong; hardy. That's how we learn strength in the face of adversity." Adversity at that moment being Akane's writhing battle aura. "I-isn't that right, Saotome?" Quickly concealing a sign which Akane could have sworn read_ I want my mommy_, Genma 'growfed', evidently in agreement.

Nostrils flaring in indignation, the youngest Tendo fought down her temper, but couldn't keep a trace of hurt from her voice as she spoke.

"I can't believe you two! All I did was to offer to help you and you act like…like…" She seemed ready to name her traditional culprit of such infractions. But as fate would have it, Akane's inner monologue was disrupted by the ever-casual entrance of the middle Tendo daughter. Nabiki wore the baggy grey sweats and loose t-shirt she had made her own look the past year. Sparing the two family patriarchs a withering glance, the short haired girl informed the other three that Kasumi would be back within the hour, and was likely picking up some extra groceries for dinner.

Both shogi players relaxed visibly at this announcement. Soun quickly amended,

"Of course Akane, fasting isn't essential to be a truly great martial artist. Isn't that right, Sao…to...me...?" He trailed off at the ominous sound of his youngest audibly grinding her teeth. Genma's 'mommy' sign made another appearance.

With a snort of lukewarm derision, Nabiki left the pair to their fate.

o-o-o

****

1.39pm

"Goodbye, dear," waved the Amazon matriarch affectionately. "I'll see you later, child." As the subject of Cologne's farewell turned a corner with a parting smile, another oft time student of the ancient woman entered her line of sight. Ancient eyes twinkling mischievously, she asked, "Why, son-in-law. What brings you all the way to my humble establishment?" She chuckled as Ranma instantly recoiled in horror. "I'm kidding, Ranma," she sighed mirthfully. "My boy, sometimes you're too highly strung for your own good."

Head quirking at Cologne's odd behaviour, Ranma allowed his shoulders to sag in relief. The old Amazon had given up her tribe's claim on Ranma in reparations for Shampoo's involvement in the failed wedding fiasco; and not the one immediately after Jusendo, but rather the more expensive church ceremony they had attempted two months afterward. The maroon-eyed girl's interest in the pig-tailed martial artist was now purely a personal affair as far as the Joketsuzoku were concerned.

With no further hold on him, Ranma often wondered why it was that the Elder had opted to remain in Nerima. Shampoo had obviously stayed for him, and Mousse for her. But the remarkably accomplished, yet still young warrior couldn't discern what kept the wizened old crone here.

It certainly wasn't Shampoo. She'd had a 'falling out' with her great grandmother after the matriarch had declared their engagement void.

In what could only be dubbed a marvellous display of Kuno-level stupidity, a livid Shampoo had publicly challenged her ancestor for the right to reinstate her claim on Ranma. While disappointed at her charge's actions, Cologne held no animosity toward the girl, simply instructing her to leave the Amazons out of her dealings with Ranma.

Said 'advice' taken into consideration, Shampoo loudly cursing the Joketsuzoku and Cologne herself after she quite emphatically lost the duel, had not been the wisest path to follow.

Ranma still wondered what had got into the young Amazon to make her act that. Because _act_ she did. He had sensed that the girl was feigning her feelings for some unknown or perhaps unknowable reason. Shampoo's denouncement of her heritage had seemed too well rehearsed, too specific and most critically, passionless. Having noticed such a change in Shampoo's behaviour, Ranma felt no doubt that Cologne had also perceived the distinctly workmanlike fashion in which her great-granddaughter had proceeded in severing ties to her roots. Her methods were distinctly 'unShampoo'-like.

Apparently, as far as the Amazon Council was concerned, Cologne would have been well within her rights to exile, or even execute her young descendant for her behaviour, local laws be damned. She had chosen however, to disown Shampoo – which, while not robbing the cursed girl of her status as an Amazon, took from her future position of matriarch – until such a time as she had 'redeemed' herself in Cologne's eyes.

Which brought Ranma back to the present. Although it didn't especially irk her, Cologne had to admit in the capacity of a restaurateur, Shampoo's absence as a waitress/delivery girl at the Nekohanten had been detrimental to the establishment's turnover. While the old woman employed a small troupe of part-time staff none could hold a candle to Shampoo's serving ability or looks. Or drawing power. Few in the Orient, hell, the world, could. And of these few was a certain redhead, who was in need of cash.

This explains why Ranma now found herself reminiscing the whole Phoenix Pill incident, dressed snugly as she was in her pink and yellow floral Chinese pantsuit. At least Cologne wasn't making an exhibition out of her this time.

Oh, wait.

"Order up for table six," cried the smiling old woman, as the café found itself busier than it had been in months. Ranma grumbled distractedly as she balanced eight different dishes on what appeared thin air, as she whisked her way to the table in question. She allowed herself a reluctant grin. Ranma wasn't _learning _the Chestnut Fist this time, she was _mastering_ it. Taking the technique beyond a level that she had never thought feasible.

The redhead smirked cockily as Cologne's eyes opened even wider than usual, genuine surprise on her withered features. Heh! WasRanma ever enjoying this!

Happy to see a smug grin appear on her waitress' face, but deciding the cocky girl could stand to be taken down a peg or two, Cologne tossed Ranma her next order. "Three beef ramens for table four…son-in-law."

"Urk!"

The loud smash of cutlery could be heard from outside the restaurant.

The customers gleefully applauded Cologne's expert distraction as they had Ranma's exhibitionist displays, seemingly as in on the little game as the two participants. Cackling, the Matriarch set Mousse to cleaning up the mess, the reeling redhead's hands already full with another order.

"Oh, my goodness! You are just too easy, Ranma," giggled the ancient Amazon. This nearly caused said waitress to topple over a second time. What the heck had gotten into Cologne? Not that Ranma was complaining. With a sunny yelp, the redhead gracefully leapt over several tables to intercept another order in midair.

She could get used to this.

o-o-o

o-o-o

o-o-o

More coming.


	2. Part 1o2

_**2.13pm**_

Mousse couldn't believe his luck. Saotome, working under the same roof as he? The same gods who had cursed him with cripplingly poor eyesight; the same gods who had cursed him with an obsessive affection (that Mousse didn't seem to realize was another way of saying 'infatuation') with a girl who not only scorned his interests, but belittled and humiliated him at every available opportunity; the same gods who had just plain cursed him - had finally deigned to give him a break.

He now had a real opportunity to be rid of Ranma…

Save the chance involved something too extreme. Killing a person? …What transgression warranted such a punishment? Hurting Shampoo! How, questioned the dispassionate side of his mind; by rejecting her? Surely, Mousse hadn't wanted him to accept her? Murder in the name of such a frivolous…

It wouldn't be murder! It was be righteous, it would be… what? Irrevocable, that's what. But Shampoo would never see how he cared for her while being led on by Saotome!

Even if he told her. Even before Ranma came into the picture, she… She was younger then. And hadn't realised her true feelings. Ranma had stolen that chance from her. From Mousse. Enough procrastination. That… bastard deserved all he got!

But how to dispose of the wretch? It would be in his best interests to make it look like an accident. He'd have to be patient. No doubt the old mummy was anticipating action on his part. Laying low for a few days was in order. At least until the dried-up raisin let her guard down. And then…oh yes. Then there'd be a reckoning! Mousse began chuckling to himself in a somewhat demented fashion.

"Oh yes, Saotome," he chortled. "Just get good and comfortable, and then, wham! You won't know what hit you. Mark my words, Ranma. You won't survive the week!" The bespectacled boy concluded his diatribe with an equally boisterous sinister belly laugh (which would lead some to believe that Mousse had megalomaniacal tendencies).

As the white robed martial artist continued giggling in an unbalanced manner, Ranma, Cologne, and every customer in the restaurant, who had all heard Mousse's soliloquy simultaneously bigsweated.****

**_7.34pm_**

"I wonder where Ranma is?" asked Nabiki of no one in particular. The others at the table paused at the unusual question from the girl. Nabiki fought back a blush as she realized she had spoken her thoughts aloud. Soun frowned in puzzlement from his position at the head of the table.

"Indeed, it is not like the boy to miss dinner like this." Turning his attention to his youngest daughter, the Tendo patriarch asked, "Akane, where is your fiancé?"

Not bothering to object to the term used to identify Ranma (she had become quite attached to it – not that she'd ever admit that to anybody), the girl honestly informed them of her ignorance.

Surprising everyone present, Kasumi volunteered some information.

"I saw Ranma entering the Nekohanten earlier. Perhaps he's still there?" she suggested amiably. Nobody noticed Nabiki's eyes widen.

"The Nekohanten?" repeated Akane, jealousy instinctively bubbling up inside her. It largely subsided when she recalled that Shampoo hadn't worked in the restaurant for several months.

"How would you know this, Kasumi?" asked Soun curiously. "I didn't realize that your book club gathered so far into town."

"Oh, it doesn't, father," replied the longhaired girl without missing a beat. "But they do sell the best ingredients for miso stew in the main market," she finished, gesturing at their meal while brandishing her trademark smile. The middle Tendo sister's quiet sigh went unnoticed by all save her elder sibling.

Soun, not unpredictably, broke into a tearful tirade regarding his great fortune in having such an attentive daughter. While Genma and Akane distractedly fought to keep Soun's tears at bay, Kasumi favoured Nabiki with a sly wink and a stealthy half-smile. Nabiki rolled her eyes and shook her head near imperceptibly, revealing a tiny grin.

---

****

8.09pm

Rub. Wipe. Rub some more. Such was the grind, contemplated Ukyo. She rolled her shoulders, watching her reflection do likewise in the spotless counter she had just finished wiping down. As the day died, business was gradually winding to a close at Ucchan's, peak hours tapering off. Thank god for that, she thought as she glanced at the second-accurate wall clock.

There were still nearly a couple of hours to go before closing time. But at least she could now afford to loosen up a little; the ravenous horde known as the dinner crowd having being satiated for another day. She eyed her outfit in the colourless reflection, ensuring it was without blemish. Anal-retentiveness satisfied, Ukyo flowed back to the grill, as her 'waitress' approached with another order.

"Fire away, Sugar," prompted the blue-eyed chef, giving her employee her attention. She swiftly readied two spatula 'shuriken' from her bandoleer as Konatsu spoke in his markedly effeminate voice.

"One seafood special and one house special, Ukyo-sama." The demure kunoichi never raised his eye level to that of Ukyo's.

Busy hands prevented Ukyo from smacking her own forehead in exasperation, as she muttered something along the lines of 'Oh, for the love of'.

"Natsu-chan? Didn't I tell you to cut that out last month?" And the month before that, and the month before that, and… Amazingly, Konatsu managed to lower his gaze further in his chastisement.

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me, Ukyo-sama."

"Urgh!" groaned the chef. "What did I just – huh?" Ukyo looked back in shock to see Konatsu concealing a giggle behind daintily manicured fingers. Konatsu… had been teasing her. Teasing her and she had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker.

Not bothering to restrain herself, she joined him giggling. Smiling broadly she handed him the two prepared okonomiyaki. "Good going, Sugar. Here you go." He nodded, taking both dishes.

"Thank you, Ukyo…san," he whispered, then scurried away looking for the entire world like the flushed teenage girl he perceived himself to be. Cute little guy, commented Ukyo to herself. Pity I'm not a lesbian, or I'd have jumped him long ago.

She looked to the door. Konatsu was attending to the last customers to enter, so she had a few minutes to herself. Pondering romantic issues as she just had, as always, brought up the subject of Ranchan.

Ukyo sighed at the thought of the pig-tailed martial artist. Not the wistful sigh of a lovesick teenager who envisions the perfect marriage to the boy of their dreams. _She'd never accept being his equal anyway._ Rather, it was the resigned sigh of someone who had accepted that their window of opportunity to get their erstwhile love had long since passed. _And now she was lying. To herself. _And that it was she herself who had cut it short.

"For the better," she concluded aloud, before pushing that traitorous thought aside.

Here I go again, she thought self-depreciatingly. Why did she obsess about him so? She wasn't in love with him anymore, and she knew, **now**, that he had never been in love with her.

Ah hell, she knew exactly why she still obsessed over Ranchan. _Both real and home-approved versions. _No, not the old cliché of being in forever-unrequited true love. Hell, if he walked in right now and declared his undying love for her, she doubted that she could honestly return it in full. Not that she'd turn him away of course. _Even though she should. _Quiet!

She still really liked him, and by gods, did that boy have one hot body.

The actual reason why she was unable to let go in her mind was that she realized something that maybe nobody else alive did: That it was **entirely **her fault that she didn't have Ranchan. Yep, she accepted it. **She** had screwed up. Dropped the ball. Let the side down. _And all for the better_. Enough already!

Hindsight might be twenty-twenty, but she had no excuse for being as blind and naïve as she had been that year she arrived in Nerima. It was kind of grating that she understood Ranchan better than the girl Ukyo felt if not necessarily for the long term, he'd eventually end up with. Would have **already** ended up with, she amended, had it not been for Shampoo, Kodachi and her own actions during the three attempted weddings several months back. Gods, she'd never live that down. What an selfish little mooncalf she had been.

Yes, she admitted with not a little self-disgust. There was the root of her problems; of her screw-up. _She knew that wasn't entirely…_True.

While the chef may have never laced Ranma's food with mind-altering toxins, or attempted to flat-out murder Akane, Ukyo still found that she could be neatly grouped into a trio that consisted of Shampoo, Kodachi, and herself.

The girl shuddered again. But hell, at least she was learning from _most of _her mistakes. Hell, at least she knew she even **made** them.

What she understood was that Ranma wouldn't – couldn't – be forced. As shy as he sometimes inadvertently revealed himself to be, Ranma was male (most of the time) and an alpha male (this **was**Ranma) was not a prize to be won. Subconsciously, Ranma likely felt that he should be the aggressor. But he had never had the chance.

While crude, she felt that this analogy held merit. She, Ukyo Kuonji, should never have chased Ranma. In fact, she would have been better served trying to pummel him just like she had when she'd first come to Nerima (although that, she conceded, wouldn't have been the best path either).

You did't chase Ranma. Nor did you get him to chase you – that wouldn't work either, Ukyo decided, recalling the incident with Shampoo and the reversal jewel.

No, with Ranma, you had to **let him **fall in love with you.

Now, how on earth did this apply to Ukyo? After all, everyone, Yuka, Sayuri, the rest of Furinkan – hell, all of Nerima, was sure that Ranma Saotome loved Akane Tendo. That, agreed Ukyo, was the bitter end of things. _Was she sure? She still cared for him. Could she condemn him to that if she wasn't certain. Could she condemn Akane? Anybody?_

So where did the okonomiyaki chef come into it? After all, Ranma and Akane were destined to fall in love. Wrong. Ranma and Akane **actively** fell in love over a period of several weeks and months. Ukyo wasn't about to allow herself to be fed that fate BS.

Having established extreme cynicism, one again faces the same frustrating question. Where did Ukyo come in? Even if Ranma hadn't been **destined** to love Akane, and instead fallen in love with the Tendo girl over a period of time and the passing of various events, how would Ukyo not having jumped on the fiancée bandwagon have changed a damn thing?

Simple, really. Had she not become the third stooge, Ranma wouldn't have viewed her as 'oh **joy**, another one', but rather as Ukyo: Ucchan. No tainted perceptions. Just Ucchan.

Yep, Ukyo felt that on a level playing field, Ranma would have fallen in love for her over Akane. _And that would have been disastrous. _Truthfully, she had no doubt of it. Arrogant? Yes. Accurate? Hell, yeah.

People talk about love-hate relationships likes it's a common thing. –**Cough**-bullshit!-**Cough**-. Sure, relationships do exist where there is a constant blurring of love and hate, but guess what made an even stronger foundation for love? Actually **liking** someone!

And even now, Ukyo didn't feel that Ranma liked Akane very much, if in fact at all. _He's infatuated with her. _Loved her with all his heart and soul to the very core of his being, sure. _Like I was with him. _But liking her? That's getting ahead of yourself.

Ranma and Ukyo on the other hand? They liked each other. A lot. _She had lived for his approval._ But, alas, Ukyo's own obtuseness had nullified any effect that this would have had, when she positioned herself as Larry to Shampoo and Kodachi's Curly and Mo.

And **that**, concluded Ukyo to herself, was why she couldn't get over it. _Then, only his validation had made her existence worthwhile. _She was, well… kind of a control freak. _Why was she deceiving herself? _That she had screwed up so regally irked her no small amount. Petty as hell, but undeniably true. _Oh god, why couldn't she just…_

It was quite a common thing for a chefs to be perfectionists. It's a profession where mistakes aren't tolerated, and Ukyo planned to be the greatest okonomiyaki chef in all of Japan.

Why was that again? Oh yes. To get Ranma. Damnit, where was the self-deception that had kept her comfortable and insulated that past year?

A broken whisper. "I'm…" _drowning in it._

She really needed a change of pace. Maybe she could enter a few tournaments? Not Martial Arts Okonomiyaki. Just martial arts. Hmm, that would be nice. Yeah, and if wishes were horses, everyone would have their own Ranchan. She had to stop thinking about this. It was only hurting her. After all, it wasn't as though some outlet for a fresh beginning was going to drop into her lap out of the blue. Enough introspection, she had a customer to serve. "Welcome to Ucchan's," she greeted. "What can I get you?"

"Ukyo? What are you doing in Kobe?"

"This is pushing it."

"What's that?"

"Nothing. Your usual is the Kosher Special, right?"

---

****

8.39pm

Dinner had concluded uneventfully. Kasumi had managed to salvage enough from Mr. Saotome's post-meal onslaught of the fridge to at least present Ranma with a semblance of something more than a snack whenever he returned.

Kasumi returned to the family table to find Akane leaning on her elbows and staring out the back door at nothing in particular, her other sister watching her. The fathers had nominally adjourned themselves to a game of go, but their absence suggested that the local bar had two new patrons. Idly, Kasumi observed Nabiki's appraisal of her younger sister. Lost in her own world, Akane didn't see Kasumi raise a questioning eyebrow at Nabiki, who mouthed back 'Ranma'. She nodded in understanding, as Akane mumbled more to herself than her sisters, "I wonder what that baka's up to at the Nekohanten?" Present in her voice was the accustomed irritation at the mention of her fiancé. These days however, it was overlapped by a layer of wistful fondness that left the older sisters (and most of the town) in no doubt as to the progress in Akane and her fiancé's relationship.

With a questioning, strangely pleading expression, Nabiki looked to her older sister. She felt Akane should know that Ranma had had to earn what he'd eventually use to buy her…what it was that he was going to buy her. He already had a large-ish sum deposited, and needed only to pay off the last fraction. Feeling quite low for her (sadly unavoidable) actions earlier, she felt she at least owed this much to her future brother in law.

Nabiki just hoped Kasumi felt the same way.

Sympathetically, the Tendo pseudo-mother shook her head. Out of Akane's line of sight, she held up four fingers. Nabiki's face fell. Steeling herself, she looked back at her older sister and covertly raised two fingers.

Kasumi turned her gaze to Akane, and then back to her other sister. She lowered her pinkie. With a sigh, Nabiki nodded. The whole exchange had taken five seconds and most of her mental reserves. With some distaste, Nabiki donned her Ice Queen mask – something that had at one point become ominously close to irremovable – and said tonelessly to Akane,

"Three thousand yen."

Blinking herself back to lucidity, Akane turned guileless eyes upon her sister. The older of the two had to fight to maintain her façade.

"Three thousand yen?" the dark haired girl repeated, not fully comprehending the situation yet, her brow furrowing in confusion. Her expression abruptly slackened. "Oh," she replied flatly, "Three thousand yen." She looked Nabiki in the eyes a moment. What Akane didn't see was the girl digging her fingernails into her thigh. "I'll…I'll go get my purse," answered Akane, rising from the table.

"Nabiki," gently admonished Kasumi as the young girl began climbing the stairs, "that wasn't very nice of you." The girl at the table didn't react.

"It's alright, Kasumi-oneechan," commented Akane from the stairway. "You know what they say, 'The more things change…'" She looked back to Nabiki. "I'll be back in a few minutes." Momentarily, they heard Akane's door opening and shutting.

As though that sound were a switch Nabiki's nonchalance fell away. Kasumi rushed to her side as she just refrained from smashing her fist on the table, but not her chips. With bone dry eyes, she growled,

"I can't keep doing this Kaz. It's making me sick just to..."

"It's alright," said the older girl soothingly.

"Did you see her face?" growled Nabiki, as Kasumi quickly offered her a tissue. "And Ranma's today. That was even worse." She wiped at her chin. "I'm not sure how long I can go on like this."

"We have to, Biki," she quoted gravely. Her tone abruptly changed. "Now quit whining and get yourself cleaned up before Akane comes back down." Nabiki raised her eyes back to her sister.

"Always one for the comforting, reassuring speeches, aren't you Kaz?"

"Heh, you know me," she chuckled. "I live to serve. And you think you have it bad." She glanced at the stairs. "Hurry to the bathroom and clean yourself up. I'll run interference on HurriKane. Get going."

---

"Finish up, Mr. Part-time," instructed the Amazon Elder. "Daughter-in-law and I have things to discuss." Ranma cringed at the title. Halfway through the evening, he had rather vehemently insisted that Cologne desist in using the 'son-in-law' moniker (actually what she had said more resembled, 'Quit callin' me that old ghoul, if ya know what's good for ya!'). Since then, the Joketsuzoku matriarch had delighted in using Ranma's new nickname whenever she had least expected it, and the audience, er, customers, had ate it up faster than the beef-bowl.

Cologne smirked as the redhead growled at her new label. Daughter-in-law (Heh) really ought to grow thicker skin. There she was, one of the most powerful martial artists of her generation – and yet, she couldn't handle a joke.

"I don't know why you're so upset, daughter-in-law," sniggered the old woman from atop her cane. "After all," she said indicating Ranma's hourglass figure, "I think the new name suits you better in the capacity of the work and all."

---


	3. Part 1o3

****

9.35pm

Mousse snickered to himself as he locked up the front windows and exited the building. He may have loathed the dried-up monkey, but even he had had to applaud how utterly pissed she was able to make Saotome through the simple expedient of a nickname.

He resumed talking to himself and he went through his foolproof plan to be done with Saotome… and by extension, claim Shampoo. He'd gone over the scheme (aloud - there had been much sweatdropping, but Mousse hadn't noticed) in the Nekohanten as well, and couldn't find a lick wrong with it then either.

Self recrimination and reason melted away as his childhood fantasy materialised before him.

Alternating between jaunty whistling and sinister snickering, the myopic lad skipped happily down the street, towards his home, thoughts of his darling Shampoo, forefront in his currently one-track mind.

---

"Would ya give it a rest already?" Sniffing, Cologne shook her head.

"You've really got to develop a sense of humour, Ranma. Don't be afraid to laugh at yourself every now and then," she advised.

"Why bother," snorted the redhead, "when I've so many others to do it for me?" Eyes narrowed, the Elder responded,

"Ah, but don't try to tell me that you didn't have fun tonight."

"No!" insisted the girl.

"Really?" she asked laconically.

"Nope! No fun whatsoever."

"Is that so?"

"Okay, so maybe a little…"

"Just a little?"

"Alright! A lot. Happy?"

"A lot?"

"Will you quit already? Okay; a hell of a lot! In fact, I probably enjoyed myself more tonight since when Ucchan and me were little kids, alright?" Smirking, the crone drawled,

"You do realize you're telling the truth, don't you?" Arms akimbo, Ranma indignantly replied,

"So?"

"Think about it."

Ranma did.

"Crap."

"Yep."

"I don't suppose you'll need a part time waitress?"

"We'll work something out."

---

"Thanks a lot, Nabiki," grumbled Akane to herself. "Let's see," she said, making a surprisingly good effort in imitating her older sister's careless 'know-it-all' drawl, "Ranma's working his poor hands to the bone. And all for your sake, Akane." She dropped the impersonation and griped impotently. "Could she **_be_** any more vague?"

Yet, it did tell her something. Although Nabiki had likely sexed it up, it was apparent that Ranma was out doing something for _her_.

Now that she thought about it, that meant that Ranma had missed dinner for her. Not what many would regard as the greatest sacrifice, but not many understood Ranma's priorities as well as those with whom he lived. Her fiancé knowingly foregoing a Kasumi-made repast could almost be compared to another person taking a severe beating for her sake.

That thought, combined with some other anonymous sacrifice he was making – some secret mission, she supposed, smirking at the corniness of her own thoughts – sent her stomach a flutter. Feeling a spontaneous urge, she moved to and rifled through her cassette drawer. Her English might not be perfect, but she understood the chorus well enough… Quickly finding the tape she sought, she plopped it into her the deck of her CD system.

Despite feeling silly, she began humming flightily to herself in time with the music. Anybody looking in her window wouldn't miss the dumb smile on her face. Almost unconsciously, Akane began to sing.

---

Kasumi exited her room in full readiness save in dress, when she noticed her younger sister spying on her youngest sister. She was about to scold her in a mildly reprimanding tone, when she remembered that nobody else was present. She crept closer to her motionless sibling.

"What's she doing Biki?" whispered the tall girl. Showing no surprise at her appearance, Nabiki answered Kasumi with a toothy grin. She motioned for her to approach, while she moved slightly away from the slight opening in the door.

---

****

9.44pm

"Night, Natsu-chan. See you in the morning, bright and early."

"Goodnight, Ukyo-san," replied the shinobi as he bade his employer goodbye. Closing the front door as he left, Ukyo turned around to the source of her current discomposure, sitting silently on a stool by the counter. "Well?"

"Er…well?" repeated Ryoga intelligently.

"I don't believe in fate," stated Ukyo suddenly steeping closer to the travel-worn boy.

"Um, okay. If that works for you…"

"What I do believe in however," she said fiddling with a mini-spatula in her hand, "is opportunity." Ryoga continued to stare at her expectantly. "You got any decent clothes in that pack of yours?" Blinking, he answered sheepishly,

"Well, ah, most of my good clothes are at home." Ukyo rolled her eyes.

"Okay you can borrow some of mine."

"WHAT?"

"My guy clothes, jackass. Geez," she mumbled. Ryoga nodded, staring absently out a window then quickly turned to Ukyo.

"Wait a minute. Why?"

"Because you and I are going out," she rejoined casually.

"We're...going out?" She nodded. "Together?"

"Yep."

"The two of us?"

"Uh huh."

"As in…" he questioned, his hand moving to his face, "a date?" She pondered that a moment and smirked at his expression.

"I suppose you could call it that." He paled.

"B-but, Akari…"

"Oh, get your head out of the gutter," she ordered. "I just felt like a change of pace, and I didn't want to give Natsu-chan the any false hope. And then you showed up. Call it my new mantra, 'when opportunity presents itself, take it.'"

"You mean 'motto'."

"They're the same thing," she replied flatly.

"Not exactly. You see, you'll have to use your new motto for some time before it becomes your mant-."

"Whatever, **sensei**."

"So you don't want to… with me?" asked Ryoga unable to give detailed voice to his concerns.

"Please!" muttered Ukyo. She glanced at his unflinching expression. "That's a 'no'."

"Oh, thank god," he breathed.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!"

---

"I guess you were right, Kaz," admitted the shorter of the pair. "Even if my teeth are rotting from the sweetness of what we've just witnessed, it really was worth imouto-chan paying after all."

Kasumi 'hmphed' at the implication that she could have possibly been mistaken.

"You can't play the omniscient, benevolent mother-figure as long as I have without picking up _something_," pointed out the tall girl.

"Two bad that something was so small," smirked Nabiki. "You don't want to be late again like today. Dad wanted to send out as search party. You ready to go? " she asked, indicating the black leather bag and other items strewn about her older sister's large bed.

"Everything but my work clothes," answered the bed's owner, already easily slipping out of her dress.

Only one other citizen of Nerima would have failed to be surprised by the sight of the paired rows of granite-hard hillocks that ran down the length of Kasumi's abdomen.

Grumbling in mock discontent, and mild jealousy, Nabiki nodded at her sister's physique.

"You know, that's really unfair," commented the short-haired girl. Kasumi snorted noisily as she stepped into a pair of combat fatigues. "Do you know how little people are able to maintain a body like that?"

"Same as big people, I suppose," shrugged the taller girl. "They work out."

"To quote you beloved sister, trè s drole," Nabiki absently recalled, before continuing. "Don't you feel its an injustice that I have to work _so_ much harder than you to keep myself in top shape."

"Curiosity demands," rejoined Kasumi's muffled voice from beneath a heavy sweater, "that I ask if you actually believe that _you_," her tone dripping with derision, "are in 'top shape'."

"Screw you, Kaz," she swore in response. Bending over to secure her heavy boots, Kasumi lolled out her tongue and licked her incisors provocatively.

"If you ask nicely."

The sultry voice proved too much for Nabiki, as she fell over backwards, the mattress coming to her rescue.

Her fall having resolved into guffaws, Nabiki eventually removed the hand she used to prevent alerting the entire house of her mirth.

"Oh man, that was good." Kasumi 'hmphed' again, this time in feigned disappointment.

"To think you find my generous offer amusing."

"Hell, incest aside, if I ever decide I swing that way, I'll give you first refusal." She looked Kasumi up and down. "You about ready?"

"Damn, Biki. And here I thought you were checking me out," she drawled as she adjusted a shoulder strap.

"They'd eat you alive in boot camp, you know?" Kasumi deigned not to respond. "Well seeing as you're going to spend all night getting your _strap-on_," she snickered. Kasumi rolled her eyes, and motioned with her free hand for Nabiki to get on with it, which she did. "We may as well get back on topic. I may not be in the same shape as you,"

"Or league," added the older girl helpfully.

"Whatever," dismissed Nabiki. "But what is damn unfair is that I have to work twice as hard to stay half as fit as you."

"It's a gift."

"I couldn't agree more. And what is a gift but something you didn't earn?"

"Piss on you, Biki," growled the pony-tailed girl.

"Not even if you ask nicely."

"Who says I'm _asking_?"

Making a production of glimpsing at her watch Nabiki intoned,

"Plan on leaving while we're young, Usagi?"

"Keep it up," she suggested. "You'll have a scat fetish when I'm through with you."

"At this pace, I'll have died of bedsores before then."

Kasumi finished securing her gear, and picked up the deceptively heavy leather bag with ease. She approached and opened the window, with a quick announcement.

"Well, I'm off."

"At a leisurely pace," griped her companion.

"Be safe, Biki."

"Safe, Kaz," she agreed.

---

"I can't work those hours!" exclaimed the irate redhead, back in her usual attire. "I'd have to roof hop straight from school."

"Don't think you're up to it, daughter-in-law?" Ranma reigned in her anger, and answered,

"Of _course_ I'm up to it. Its, well, just…"

"There's no shame if you think it's too much for you."

"Hey!" complained the girl to about the only adult female in Nerima shorter than her, other than the evil old washerwoman.

"I'm simply being honest…"

"It's just that…" mumbled Ranma in a small voice.

"And now it's your turn."

"Okay, okay," she submitted. "If I do that, when… when am I going to get any time to... spend with friends, like 'Roshi and Dai… and um, Akane?"

"Ranma?" asked the wizened old figure.

"Y-yeah?"

"That's both very sweet, and startlingly mature of you," she grinned.

"Really?" blurted the girl. "Thanks!"

"But there's a flaw in your reasoning."

"Yeah?"

"Those are your weekend hours."

"…Oh."

"Yes."

"You really want to hit me with your cane right now, don't'cha?"

"Would you mind?" asked Cologne hopefully.

"Has that ever stopped you before?"

"Thank you, Ranma."

---

****

10.14pm

"Don't worry. All my decent guy-clothes are sized to fit me while I'm wearing shoulder pads. They'll be fine on you."

"I dunno…" mumbled Ryoga cautiously. "What about pants?"

"What about them?" asked the chef curtly.

"Well, I'm taller than you."

"Are not," quickly countered the girl. Ryoga blink-blinked.

"Er…yes I am," stated Ryoga quickly stepping into his companion's personal space. "See," he said, looking down at her. "I've got at least four inches on you."

"Whatever," she sniffed, and then blushed when she realized how close he was still standing. "Ryoga?" she questioned. Said Lost Boy only now noticing the close quarters, 'yipped' and hopped backward several feet.

"Anyway," began Ryoga, trying to steer the situation away from… well, just away, he thought. "What gave you the idea you were my height?" Blush receding like a frightened prairie dog, Ukyo turned a frosty gaze to the fanged boy.

"Are you saying I'm short?"

"W-well, no," he answered. "I mean not for a girl," he continued failing to notice Ukyo's glare. Then he did notice it. "Eh-heh…" he sweated.

He wouldn't have suspected that Ukyo would had had height issues. She was actually fairly tall for a girl. Kasumi was the only girl he knew in any real capacity who was taller than her, and she was a woman. It was not as though she would have been teased or any…thing.

Then he realised. Ukyo had been raised a boy from the age of six. Of course she'd have been teased. But heck, compared to teasing he had received as a kid for his navigational 'difficulties', she had probably had it easy.

Hmm, he pondered, deciding that no personality was complete without a complex or two. _Pity Ukyo's all happened to stem from the same thing. _

Now that was new. When had he become so insightful? Guess all those hours wandering alone with only his own thoughts for company had finally resulted in something positive.

-CLANG!-

Of course, there was the drawback that he'd sometimes coast away into his thoughts even while he was in somebody's company, as his new spatula-induced headache attested.

"I said stop daydreaming, numbnuts!" demanded Ukyo when he turned his slightly glazed-over eyes to the brunette.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. "Sometimes I just drift off…" he said lamely.

"Yeah, yeah," she huffed half-heartedly. She threw him a dark pair of pants. "Those are practically new," she said when he plucked them from the air. "I never wore them, because…"

Sensing he shouldn't allow this to end without a conclusion, he gently prodded,

"Because?"

"Because, because they were too long for me, alright?"

"No problem," he answered easily. "Besides, I think you'd look a lot better in that dress," he commented referring to the garment she was holding. She glanced down, and slowly a wry smile spread across her face.

"Ryoga?"

"Uh, yes?" he replied nervously, hoping he hadn't overstepped the bounds of proprietary.

"Weak. But thanks for trying."

Relieved, he awkwardly sighed, "You're welcome."

"But you're still not getting any."

The Lost Boy concluded that remaining silent would be wisest course of action.

---

"I must say, Ranma, tonight has been fun," chirped the ancient crone as she accompanied her new employee out of the restaurant.

"Amazing as it is, I gotta agree with you. Who'da thunk it, old ghoul?" smirked the busty redhead.

"Keep that up daughter-in-law, and tomorrow you'll be getting the jobs I used to give Mr. Part-Time to distract him from Shampoo."

"Can dish it out, but can't take it yourself?" Cologne suddenly deflated.

"Point taken, Ranma. My apologies. Good night, my boy." Before she could re-enter the building, Ranma quickly blurted out,

"Oh yeah! You just reminded me. I need to talk with you about Mousse as well."

"Mousse?" repeated the Amazon, raising an eyebrow. "Alright, but that is for tomorrow. Right now, I have to entertain."

"No worries," replied Ranma, agreeably, leaping to a nearby roof. An orange streetlight lit up her features, and threw stark shadows over some of her face. This had the effect of highlighting her dimpled cheeks as she smiled down. "Later, old ghoul," she laughed liltingly with a wink for the gnarled figure perched upon her equally gnarled staff. The redhead then bounded away too fast for the untrained eye to follow.

"Goodnight," she answered the darkness, "Ranma."


	4. Part 1o4

****

10.17pm

A lithe figure leapt with eerie grace from rooftop to rooftop, the only signs of her presence, her cloaked silhouette in the pale moonlight, and the intoxicating scent of the petals that were her namesake.

Kodachi Kuno was a woman with a mission. Too long had she to wait patiently for the commotion of those farcical ceremonies to die down. For too many endless hours had her darling Ranma-sama had to suffer without her august attentions.

Well, no more! She would prove to her darling that only she was worthy of his most intimate affections.

The Black Rose had done her homework. She had learned that the foreign barbarian girl had had any claim to her love stripped from her due to her disgraceful actions at the curch several months earlier. Also had Kodachi come to conclude that neither an arranged marriage, nor over a year of most fiendish confinement could coerce her darling into betraying her by seeking to satiate his manly needs with that common Tendo girl.

This left the Lady of the Kuno family with only two valid sources of competition for her brass ring. First and foremost of these was her dreadful nemesis, the pigtailed girl. The harridan who would claim her beloved's name. How she despised that vile strumpet. Kodachi would most assuredly take pleasure in disposing of that wicked girl above all else.

But the vagabond harlot was of no fixed abode, seeming to appear at random like the cursed gypsy girl she was. Seeking to deny her of her rightful place at her love's side. Even the vast resources of the Kuno estate were not sufficient to pin down the wench's whereabouts, save for shadowing Ranma himself.

Currently powerless to anything about the redheaded wretch, Kodachi now turned her full attention onto the only other credible rival for her love; the peasant pancake chef, Ukyo Kuonji.

Despite utter confidence in her abilities to subdue the commoner, the Black Rose had thought to bring an 'insurance package'. A thin, miniscule dart tipped with a compound of various potent hallucinogens. Once pierced by the needle, Miss Kuonji would be far more receptive to Kodachi's 'suggestion' that she accompany her without issue. Once back in the Kuno grounds, she would flush the drugs from her system, and proceed to _persuade_ the chef to discontinue the pursuit of **her** Ranma-sama.

She eyed the dart held between her slim thumb and forefinger. Not that she'd need it, but even Kodachi Kuno had to admit that the girl wielded her oversized baker's peel with considerable skill.

---

Thank the heavens he'd forgotten his wallet at the Nekohanten. 'Talk to you about Mousse' indeed!' mentally scoffed the Chinese boy. And to think he'd considered not going through with his plan. Even though Saotome could have been benign in his intentions… But Mousse wouldn't take that risk. His thick robes muffled any sound he might make shuffling from alley to alley in pursuit of his quarry. He dare not take to the roofs and risk losing his element of surprise. This was a golden opportunity. If Saotome felt confident enough to postpone what could be the planning of Mousse's demise for another night, then the sex-changer probably suspected little to no likelihood of a threat in the interim.

As Mousse made use of the urban warrens to remain concealed, he failed to perceive another rooftop figure rapidly approaching his target.

---

Destiny was indeed on her side! There Kodachi had stood, on a roof adjacent to the pancake chef's hamlet of an establishment, when the heavens delivered to her a bounty among bounties. The notorious pigtailed girl herself. Finally, she would remove the chief and most persistent threat to her future with Ranma-sama.

Without a moment's hesitation, she revised her plan and gave chase. The peasant cook could wait for another night. After all, she wasn't going anywhere. The Black Rose bounded across the building, uncharacteristically containing her laughter.

---

"Did you just hear something?" asked the bandanna-clad boy as Ukyo lead him (and not without necessity) down the stairs. She paused a moment, then shook her head.

"Must be your imagination."

---

Akane eyed what was left for Ranma in the kitchen. She realized that it wouldn't even come close to satisfying her fiancé's appetite. But with Kasumi in bed and feeling poorly, what was she to do? The raven-haired girl felt a guilt-trip sneaking up on her. Ranma had spent the day labouring away for her benefit, and would come home to what amounted a sandwich cutlet to the average person.

But… if nothing else, Akane could at least make curry. That time before she had left on her return journey to Ryuganzawa had not been a fluke - as regards that single variety of dish. Sure, it wasn't great, but it wasn't terrible, either. At any rate, it would help to fill Ranma's bottomless pit of a stomach before he tucked into Kasumi's leftovers. Resolving herself, Akane began to gather the required ingredients; being meticulously careful in measuring the correct quantities of contents.

As the girl prepared her single palatable dish, she began to hum a foreign tune to herself.

---

****

10.25pm

She paused, poised to leap if need be. Ranma had been taking the scenic route home, in an effort to loosen her muscles having sat still for so long after the Nekohanten had closed. But she ceased her travel when she got the distinct gut feeling that someone was watching – stalking her. Somebody with more than benign intentions. Ranma had learned to trust her gut over the years, and right now it was yelling at her to employ the Umi-senken techniques, and get the hell away from there.

The redhead's arms were raised as she prepared to implement her father's cloaking manoeuvre when she blinked. Ranma had noticed a momentary flash of white silk as someone entered the narrow lane beneath her. She relaxed, chastising herself. Only good ol' Mousse. She had been worried that it was somebody dangerous like Taro or Happo-

Ite! Did a bee just sting her? What the? "S'goin' on?" Damn, but she was dizzy. Huh, the ground was approaching pretty fast, she noted.

---

Yatta! Glorious success!

"Ohohohohoho!" she chortled malignly, as she stood to her full height. The pigtailed girl had fallen to her superior warfare strategy. "You wretched girl!" she exclaimed raising her chin.. "Oh, the promises that I shall extract from you! I've got you at la-aah!"

The Black Rose wilted under the grip that had suddenly clamped onto her shoulder. Kodachi tried to scream a protestation at the handling, but only a silent wail escaped. Abruptly, she found her self being turned around like a rag doll, and mournfully grimaced as an equally powerful vice clamped down on her other shoulder, applying a doubly agonizing pain hold.

Fighting through the pain, the experienced martial arts gymnast peered at her tormentor. Discerning two hard, oaken eyes, Kodachi gasped in horror. The contempt that filled them made the amazingly gentle face that hosted the hateful orbs into a mockery of beauty.

She shrieked in mute anguish as the beautiful woman drove her to her knees. Through clenching lids, Kodachi felt she saw those wooden windows to the soul burn with a mad fervour not unlike that which the Rose encountered in the mirror.

"Not her," the woman spoke in the most serene voice, a sick counterpoint to the pain the black-haired girl was experiencing at her hands. "If anything were to happen to that girl, someone really important to me would be very sad." The voice hardened, but the tranquillity remained, "She is off-limits to you.

"Do you understand?" asked the tall figure. No response. She shifted the hold, applying more pressure to the joints she grasped. "Understand?" Nothing. With a nauseating sensation, she reapplied both holds onto forbidden pressure points. This caused the Rose to curl up further, but elicited not a sound from the tortured girl. "Do you understand me?" cried the standing figure.

Lord, why wouldn't the girl just nod? She hated doing this. But she had to. The Black Rose was as viable a threat to Akane and Ranma as anything she had encountered. Still, she hated causing pain – of any sort, let alone this magnitude – to a person. Despised herself for it. Why wouldn't she **_just nod?_**

Kneeling to Kodachi's eye level, the tall girl again gave voice to her question. "Do you unders-" Her grip slackened, and she nearly tumbled over as a small rose exploded in her face. Black petals and something she felt wasn't as innocent as pollen assaulted her senses.

As the tall figure wiped already tearing brown eyes, she grimaced as she realized her captive was no longer that. Her first blurry sight was of an uncloaked Black Rose perched twenty feet away. A ribbon – a razor ribbon – was being twirled idly in her left hand, another black rose, identical to the one that embroidered the left breast of her purple leotard, held in the other.

While disconcerting, this wasn't what troubled the figure. What truly unnerved the woman was that Kodachi was displaying no ill effects whatsoever as a result of spending a minute in a pain hold that had allegedly reduced grandmasters to quivering masses of flesh in the time it took to apply. Kodachi did not look happy, and appeared to be routing great effort to avoid frothing at the mouth in fury. Scratch that. Unnerving wasn't the word.

"Foolish, naïve girl!" haughtily remarked the Black Rose. "I've experienced things beyond your scope of comprehension. You think a verboten pressure hold will stop one who has experienced _true pain_?" She snarled. "Do you?"

Like a frog before a snake, she could only repeat,

"True pain?" She laughed at the question, seemingly quite amused.

"Why, the torment of madness, my dear," Kodachi answered as though discussing the weather. "For some reason, I feel… as though I can be open with you," proclaimed the Rose. "Its your face, I think. It reassures even one such as I." Before her adversary could respond, she answered. "Oh, yes, I am well aware that I am quite unsound of mind. My entire bloodline is tainted with madness," she declared. Her eyes narrowed coldly as she bitterly added, "Yet only I am cursed to retain awareness of it. _That_, Kasumi Tendo, is agony."

Kasumi grimaced at the confirmation that she'd been recognized. "I'm not blind, Miss Tendo. Odd attire. Planning to join the JSDF, are we?" she smirked at Kasumi's subdued growl.

"Just because I am mad does not mean my memory has holes in it. Of course it may _add_ something extra every now and then," she finished with a moue. "Nor does it make me forgiving!" she cried as she shot out her uncoiled ribbon.

Reacting on instinct, Kasumi whipped around her weighted metal staff and parried the blow in a shower of angry sparks. She felt a wayward sprite brush over her tightly shut left eyelid, which she'd been unable to open since its contact with the 'pollen'.

"You _are_ very strong, Kasumi, aren't you," judged Kodachi. "Stronger even than your sister. But battling at long range without stereoscopic vision? You know as well as I that you are going to lose."

Irritatingly enough, Kasumi thought raggedly, she was completely right. "Stand down," she ordered calmly. "You have done your best. But I grow impatient to claim my prize."

Prize? _Oh, God. Ranma!_ She hadn't jumped; she'd fallen. She could be lying in a pool of her own blood right now, or even… being taken advantage of. Worse still, she was a defenceless beacon for… other things.

But why the sudden change in attitude? Wondered Kasumi. Until she realized that she was standing between where Ranma likely lay and an increasingly impatient Black Rose.

"Listen!" pleaded the Tendo daughter. "The pigtailed girl that you hate so much _is_ Ranma! Don't you care about that?" As soon as the words left her lips, Kasumi realized that she had made a mistake. Kodachi's gaze hardened. Whereas before, her ribbon had been wary; probing – now it slithered about like a venomous serpent. With little warning, Kodachi effortlessly broke through her defence. Kasumi bit back a scream at what she knew would leave a horrible mish-mash of bruises and gashes on her entire upper body.

"I told you," clamoured the Kuno Lady, emphasizing each word with a strike. Kasumi was only able to block the first. "I am not stupid! I've seen her take his place, true. And you would have me believe in magic and fancy rather than realise it is an **illusion?**"Suddenly, the ruthless barrage ceased, and Kodachi once again twirled the ribbon in lazy spirals about her body.

Kasumi shivered as she felt as though she was looking at an entirely different person – one that frightened her a lot more than the crazed attacker who had already taken her pound of flesh. "Did…" the voice hesitated, as though it were revealing a secret to somebody it knew wouldn't like it. "Did you know that you are mad as well, Kasumi?" is whispered like a co-conspirator. "Maybe not yet. But one day," it lulled as if reading a bedtime story. "You will be."

The brown-eyed girl tried to ignore her, as she surreptitiously reached to her hip for a throwing knife. If she could disable her hand…

No sooner than she had made contact with the weapon, than it was struck from her hand. Kasumi howled in pain. "Naughty, naughty," admonished the black-haired aggressor. "Kasumi, dear, I'm still telling you your secret."

Still grasping her staff in her good appendage, Kasumi allowed her broken left hand to lay limp by her side. Kodachi could pass at her leisure now. With only one arm, Kasumi's ability to defend decreased dramatically. Why hadn't she taken advantage of that yet?

She grimaced, as she realized why Kodachi hadn't already claimed 'her prize'. She had found another. The self-confessed madwoman looked about exaggeratedly as though making sure they were alone on the rooftop. "I saw the sparks in your eyes. Do you remember?" she asked turning back to the older woman. "When you had me on my knees under your power?" She smiled. "I saw the sparks. All they need for them to flame is some… tinder. And then," she proclaimed gazing at the stars, "You'll burn as bright as any fire in the sky."

Kasumi blanched, grasping her staff for reassurance when Kodachi turned glacial eyes on her. "And do you know what the worst part is?" she asked caustically, her nascent friendliness fading like candyfloss in water. The leotard-wearing girl's demeanour changed as she took an aggressive step toward her target. "Knowing where the madness stops and I begin." She seemed to look inward. "I know _exactly_ where." Instantaneously, she was all-smiles again. "If I shy away from it," she explained amicably, "the madness grows, trying to reach me: taking with it a part of me." Her tone became a feral growl as she spat, "Such is my lot.

"To give myself willingly," she stated in a voice free of emotion. "Piece, by tiny piece.

"Or," she smiled knowingly at Kasumi, "to allow it to gradually envelop all that I am, even as I pit myself futilely against it.

"This, in full knowledge that whatever small part of me remains unconsumed will _still_ be aware of the insanity outside of it.

"So you see," she elucidated, raising a finger not unlike a teacher stressing an important point in a lecture, "I must give the devil – you do believe in the devil, don't you Kasumi? - my consent that my soul be taken, lest he take it forcibly from me." She snarled at Kasumi's expression of incomprehension. "Yes, I know that makes no sense! But I fear that if I fight, he will deign to punish me with inattention. That he will take it all, and leave just enough of me behind to know this…" Kasumi's heightened senses perceived her whisper, "Even Lucifer's company is better than being alone."

"You're wrong," breathed Kasumi, only to be apparently ignored.

"But now that I have told you all this…" drawled the Rose almost remorsefully.

Kasumi readied her weapon for what she felt in her gut was a last stand as Kodachi absently flicked her ribbon into action. Unleashing a potential deathblow, the Kuno lady cried, "I assure you Kasumi, that limbo is a far worse fate than hell!"

"You'd be surprised, child," declared the diminutive figure whose cane had intercepted the strike. Kodachi screamed.

"No! If I can't go there, then neither can she!"

"You would be advised to leave _right now_, girl," came the stern warning.

With an inarticulate cry of impotent fury, the Black Rose recalled her ribbon, and leapt away across the city at speed. Cologne turned back to her student. "How are you feeling, dear?"

"Not so good, Ba-chan," answered Kasumi honestly. "I think I have to sleep now." Before she could land, the Amazon Elder had already gathered up the young woman and her belongings. At a pace that wouldn't shame a race car driver, she made for the Nekohanten.

---

Ite! Did a bee just sting her? What the? "S'goin' on?" Damn, but she was dizzy. Huh, the ground was approaching pretty fast.

And with it, a certain white-robed figure.

"Ooof!" exhaled the Chinese boy as the airborne figure drilled right into his gut, bowling him over. "What the? Who?" he gasped breathlessly. Quickly appraising his situation, Mousse realized the danger of his position. He was stretched out, face-up on the ground, wheezing, helplessly winded by whoever had attacked him. Gingerly, he sent a hand out searching for his wayward eyepieces, but could barely move his arm.

Fighting for air, then realized that even winded as he was, he was having a hard time of it. Understanding came when the small person on his chest groaned softly. "Who," he coughed, "who are you?"

"Dunno," slurred a seemingly soused female voice. "Who're you?"

"I am called Mousse. Can you move?" He discerned some blurring which he assumed was the girl trying to roll off of him.

"Don't think so," she mumbled. "Sorry," she finished dejectedly, with a hushed keen.

"It's alright! It's alright!" he allayed when he heard her begin to tear-up.

"You sure?" she asked, sniffing quietly. He nodded silently, taking a deep gulp of air into his lungs. "Hey, wha?" cried the girl as Mousse shifted. With a drawn out grunt he was able to sit himself up, the tiny girl in his lap. "You okay?" she asked concernedly. Squinting, the myopic boy answered,

"I'm fine, miss. You wouldn't happen to see a pair of glasses lying about by any chance?" he asked hopefully. More blurring.

"Sorry," she said in a small voice. "S'dark."

"That's okay," he hastily replied, sensing she may cry again.

Gently as he could he asked, "Miss, what are you doing out here alone? Are you okay?" He couldn't smell any alcohol or smoke on her, which only made his suspicions worse.

"I was jus' going home," she explained. "Den I fell down." She giggled. "Silly me."

Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! So close, and now his chance was gone. Only somebody as morally repugnant as Saotome (Okay, a **lot** worse) would leave a girl alone in this kid's condition.

"Do you know where your home is, miss? Could you find it from here?" he questioned.

"I think so," she answered uncertainly.

"Alright," he huffed as he stood straight up, the bundle in his arms eliciting an alarmed 'eek!' "Don't worry," he assured her. "I'll bring you there."

"Wow! You're strong," she chimed up at his face. His smile at the compliment quickly became sheepish however, as she asked,

"Say, um… You couldn't give me directions out of this alley, could you?"


	5. Part 1o5

---

****

10.53pm

As they queued outside the nightclub, Ryoga looked askance at his companion. Below a loose jacket, Ukyo had chosen to wear a pair of old jeans that had been faded through wear rather than design. They still looked quite nice on her, he judged, hugging her legs flatteringly. And above those, beneath the jacket she wore a dark blouse, open at the throat, contrasting alluringly with the skin of her neck and chest. In fact, thought Ryoga, glancing down curiously, it was almost open enough to get a hint of… How a simple bandage had sufficed to hide _those_, Ryoga didn't deign to imagine. Quickly, he tore his gaze away before his enchantment could be discovered.

Ukyo didn't know how to react to the stares she'd been getting since they entered the bar district, save to thank chance that she had found a pair of pants that fitted. Ukyo had been to many clubs, but always as a 'guy'. Thus, she knew exactly what the thoughts behind those appreciative looks were. But still, it was nice to have _men _watching her for a change. After all, Ukyo made a most convincing and very handsome boy. Being hit on by girls was simultaneously flattering and perturbing. They could be _very_ aggressive.

Which is why she chose to cut Ryoga some slack when she caught him staring at her cleavage again. She needn't have held his hand to guide him here. He'd have followed regardless.

"Ryoga?"

"Huh?" he mumbled, looking at her.

"Up here," she suggested dryly.

"Sorry," he apologized abashedly. "I uh…"

"You must really have it bad for that Akari girl," she commented. He frowned, asking what she meant. She grinned. "Well, you haven't had a single nosebleed since we've been out, and I can see (now at least) how the way I'm dressed does to **normal **guys. Hell, remember how we met?" she smiled toothily. Ryoga groaned,

"Don't remind me. Stupid Ranma," he grumbled.

"Hmm," she mused. "That didn't have as nearly as much bluster as you used to give it. You're not going to tell me that Ranma _isn't _the source of all the woe and misery in your life now, after all, are you?" she asked, her tone indicating her teasing was not to be taken seriously.

"Yeah, well…" he fumbled. "I guess I have other things to think about now."

"Like what?" she asked genuinely curious (plus, the line was _long_).

"Well," he thought, "school for one thing."

"Ah, Sugar," she said gently, "you don't go to school."

"That doesn't stop me from attending." She blinked. Then she blinked again.

"Care running that one by me again, Hon?"

"What I mean is, I carry a compliment of textbooks in my pack. The education board's aware of my family's… condition, so they provide me with a learning plan and curriculum. I follow these and every month I mail a completed exam so they can continuously assess my development," he explained concisely. Amazed by this revelation, she asked

"How do they find you? You know, to let you know how you're doing?" He shrugged.

"Whenever I find myself in a government building, like a post office or something, I just tell them my story and they find out for me." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Has to be a Japanese government building though. This one time in Korea,"

"But how do they know…" she cut in.

"That I'm not cheating?" he provided. She nodded.

"I do have to find them at least once a year," he admitted, "for an annual assessment exam. But, as long as I give myself two months head start, I usually get there on time."

"And if you don't?"

"I don't," he said simply.

Boggling at this new information, Ukyo asked,

"So what level are you at now? Academic wise, I mean?" He cocked an eyebrow in thought and answered,

"I'm currently at a senior high school level," he informed her, missing her gasp. "But as soon I next find the exam hall, I'll graduate if I…what?"

"You," she pointed, "are better educated," she pointed again, "than me?"

"I guess. But you run your business. I'd suppose that that counts for more in real life…what now?" he asked as she stared at him not unlike one does an exhibit at an 'alternative' art show.

"You're just full of surprises tonight, aren't you?" she said smiling.

"Wait until you see me dance," he suggested.

"You can dance?"

"No," he admitted, with a very uncharacteristic grin, "But it seemed like the thing to say."

"You're _damn_ lucky that I don't have my spatula," she growled in mock anger.

---

"My, my. She certainly did a number on you, didn't she?" commented Cologne as she expertly bandaged Kasumi's abused hand.

"She kicked my ass, is what she did," grimaced the dark eyed girl acerbically. The old woman frowned pointedly at her language. "Sorry, Ba-chan," she added contritely. "And here I was, thinking I was ready. Ow!" she complained, as she was lightly 'bopped' on the crown.

"I've no tolerance for self-pity, Granddaughter," the old woman informed her charge in a no-nonsense manner. Kasumi nodded. "Although you will need some work, next time you shall be prepared for Kodachi."

"Next time?" boggled Kasumi. "Ah, hell. You're right," she groaned. "She'll be back, won't she?" Nodding, Cologne answered,

"Indeed. Here, raise your arm." Kasumi obeyed as the Elder used her tiny hands to delicately rub in a musky smelling balm into her black and blue arms. "Do you know why?"

"Huh?" replied Kasumi distractedly. Sighing and unable to administer another 'bop' with her hands busy, Cologne rasped,

"Do you understand why Kodachi will, or rather has turned her attentions toward you?"

"Yes. She's jealous." The old woman concealed a smile, and tonelessly prompted,

"Jealous?"

"Yes. Of me." With a shake of her head Kasumi continued. "She thinks that I'm going to go mad someday. She hates that I'll experience the hell that she longs for. Not what I'd have imagined as grounds for my attempted murder."

So Kasumi hadn't known that it wasn't a deathblow? Cologne smirked horribly,

"I've known stranger motives."

"One can only imagine," snickered Kasumi. The Matriarch assisted in pulling a spare sweater over her tender torso. "But that's all bull."

"Go on," prompted Cologne, ignoring Kasumi's swearing.

"That's what she wanted me to believe. Because maybe then, she'd believe it." She gently patted her left arm as she continued. "I think she felt connected o me, and couldn't accept it. When she said she could trust me, there was so much…" Kasumi searched for an apt term. "So much… **_joy_**, in her in that brief moment. Not sadistic joy, but something… good."

"Yes, in that instant, she did not appear irredeemable, did she?"

"She's _frightened _of it," uttered the young woman in wonder. "How, in the face of everything else, could she…" She blinked. "Wait a minute," she said accusingly, "Just how long were you there?"

"Long enough," she winked in a cascade of wrinkles.

"Anyway, I'm think I'm re-"

"You're not going out tonight," interrupted Cologne.

"But I -"

"End of discussion, young lady." Kasumi nodded reluctantly, but obediently. Her tone became questioning. "You called out while I carried you here."

"She came again."

"The internuncio?" asked Cologne rhetorically. "And did you once more believe…"

"That it was the first time she had come? Yep. I reacted like a teenybopper again."

"Shame." Changing the subject, the old woman questioned, "How's your eye, dear?" Kasumi rubbed her cheek, blinking experimentally.

"Its fine," she answered appreciatively. "From the way it stung earlier I was surprised to wake up in three dimensions."

"Don't worry," the tiny Elder reassured her, "It was just an irritant, nothing more." Her tone took on an edge. "But when next you encounter Kodachi, it may be." The Tendo daughter nodded. "You're a very clever girl, Kasumi. But Kodachi may be equally as devious."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ba-chan," responded the girl sardonically. Cologne sniggered.

"And with the ominous warning of impending doom out of the way, how about something to drink, dear?"

"Actually, I wouldn't mind…" she trailed off as her eyes widened. "Oh God! Ranma!"

---

****

11.20pm

Ukyo swore silently to herself as she entered the club. If that bouncer had spent any longer with his eyes glued to her chest, she'd have been more than inclined to glue her foot to his muscle-bound ass.

"Ryoga," she called over the blaring music, "you getting anything to drink?"

"Sure," he answered. "What are you having?"

"Ryoga, you don't have to – I mean I can pay my-,"

"Aw, come on," he insisted, heading to the bar, before she tugged him backwards.

"Let me lead the way," she said pointedly.

"Heh," he managed. "That would probably be best."

---

"You see them?"

"Gods, yes! How could I miss them? They're," the girl struggled for fitting words. "They're,"

"Beautiful," he answered. "Yes," he intoned reverently. "She is truly astounding." He didn't notice the dark-haired girl frown at his gender-specific description.

"C-can," she began, "can we…?"

"Of course," he answered emphatically, but added when she nearly ran off. "Take your time. After all, don't you have an engagement tomorrow night?" She smiled at his interest in her affairs, and again turned her gaze to the two resplendent individuals who had just walked in together.

"The boy is gorgeous… so intense," she commented dreamily.

"He's yours." She did a double-take.

"But I thought you preferred m-"

"No. You have him, love. I'm… in a peculiar mood tonight."

---

"There it is!" squealed the girl happily. At last, he thought in relief. Mousse could only stand so much bubbliness.

"Where?"

"Right there. Just ahead of you, silly!" He took the necessary steps forward and stopped just short of a large brown blob. "That's the front door," she supplied.

"Are you okay to walk?" he asked.

"Sure, I think so."

"Well then," he said, settling her down on her feet, "here you go. Have a good evening. I was glad I could help," he intoned in way of farewell. Before he could get far, he was asked in a high pitched voice,

"Aw! Aren't you going to carry me in?"

"Er," he sweated. "You _can_ walk, right?"

"Sure!" she chirped back.

"Then I really must be going. Goodnight, miss."

"Oh, okay." Mousse's eyed opened wide a saucers, as she placed a quick peck on his cheek. "Thanks for the lift! Night, night," she chimed, entering the house and closing the door behind her. The Master of Hidden Weapons stood stock still for twenty seconds, face flushed.

"Guess… guess I ought to go home," he mumbled aloud as he walked away in a random direction.

---

Akane yawned noisily. Not very ladylike, she conceded, but she was alone. Some generic game show droned away on the TV while she sat in the main room, the rest of the house long since gone to bed. She was sipping tiredly on a glass of water when a shuffling sound alerted her to the front door being opened.

"Ranma?" she whispered. She quickly rose and moved to the hallway to find that whoever had come in had already entered the kitchen.

Smiling at her fiancé's predictable behaviour, Akane called, "Ranma?" as she followed into the still unlit kitchen.

"Who's dere?" demanded her fiancé's female voice through the darkness. The youngest Tendo answered with her name. "Oh, hi Akane," replied the oddly slurred voice. She heard some fumbling noises, and frowned concernedly. What was wrong? Could he be hurt? She thought, distressed.

"Ranma? Are you okay?" she probed, unable to keep the worry from her tone. "What's wrong?" she asked when she heard some uneven steps.

"Can't find the light switch," mumbled the girl in lieu of answer.

"The light switch?" repeated a confused Akane. "Wait a second. I'll get it for you." As she flicked it on, the phone began to ring. "I'll get it Ranma," she said, quickly exiting the room and picking up the receiver. "Moshi moshi. Cologne-obaasan? Ranma? Yes, he's here. Would you like to…? Oh, okay… I will. Goodnight."

Returning to the kitchen, Akane began, "Ranma that was Cologne. She said to tell you…" she trailed off as she saw a wobbly-legged Ranma attempting to use the counter to remain upright. Turning dilated eyes to her fiancée, the obviously out-of-sorts redhead slurred,

"Tell me wha?"

"Ranma," hissed Akane, a horrible thought forming. "Are you drunk?"

"No, no," insisted Ranma, giggling. "I'm not dr…drunk," she stuttered. "Ask the guy."

"What guy?" questioned Akane, anger brewing.

"The guy who carried me home, you dope," the redhead answered, blinking her eyes slowly.

"**A guy carried you home?**" asked the now seething Tendo, gnashing each word.

"Yep," she chortled. "Cos I couldn't make it on my own, y'see... What's wrong?" She asked when she focused on the short-haired girl.

"I…" Akane tightened her eyes shut. "I can't _believe_ you, Ranma! Here I was thinking that you had stayed out for my sake and… instead," she spat, "You were out _drinking_ of all things!"

"Hey, I wasn't drinkin'," argued the redhead.

"Don't lie, Ranma!" Akane shrieked, blinking back tears.

"I'm not lyin'," groggily insisted Ranma. "I wasn't drinking anything."

"And to think I… Damn you Ranma!" sobbed Akane, as she turned and hurried up the stairs, leaving her fiancé alone.

"But I…"

---

****

11.55pm

She had been blind before, never to see it in him, she understood, now that she recognized Ryoga. She could taste him in the air. His strength. She would have to keep her cool – but he was so close.

Calm down, she berated herself. This was perfect, and she would not ruin this chance.

---

Ryoga stared at the whiskey-flavoured slush in the bottom of his glass. He had a remarkably high level of alcohol tolerance for his age, making drinking most 'lightweight' beverages, such as beer or sake, pointless in any genuine effort to get inebriated. Still, he didn't want to get drunk and lose track of Ukyo… Er, his pack was back at her place after all.

Downing the remainder of his tumbler, Ryoga turned to notice a rather pretty girl was within breathing distance of him. Deciding to fall back on an old classic, he blurted,

"Eh, hello?"

"Hi there!" she smiled enticingly. "You're Akane's friend, Ryoga, right?" He nodded, wondering what was taking Ukyo so long in the bathroom. "I'm in Akane's class, you see. We watch all your fights with Ranma in the schoolyard," she said sweetly.

"That's nice," he answered in non-committal tone. Where _was _she? The girl seemed to take his indifferent response as a compliment.

"Are you here with Akane, now?" she asked suggestively. He shook his head and her smile widened.

"I'm here with Ukyo. Kuonji," he added her family name. "You might know her. I think she's in Akane's class, too," he finished.

"Yeah," she replied, less enthusiastically. "But isn't she that girl who dresses up as a boy?" Ryoga frowned.

"So?" he questioned succinctly. The girl flustered.

"It's just, I mean. Really! Don't you think that kind of, kind of weird?" she ventured.

"Considering that in that same class there is a girl who _actually_ turns into a boy, and vice-versa, I don't think that should bother you much," said Ryoga defensively, and quite fed up of being kept waiting. How long can a girl spend in the bathroom, anyway?

"Well, I mean," she began as Ryoga glanced at his watch. That was it. He'd find her himself. And he was quite tired of this annoying girl, too.

"Excuse me," he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. She blinked as he abruptly left his seat, and walked away. He didn't notice the look of baffled ire on the girl's face.

"Wait a minute, damn you!"

---

Nabiki frowned as she lay in bed. Akane was fighting with Ranma again. She wondered how Saotome had out his foot in his mouth _this_ time. And he'd been doing so well lately, too. If either of the pair was going to show the backbone to finally overcome their stubbornness, Nabiki had her money on the pig-tailed aquatransexual.

Recalling the scene she had witnessed earlier that evening as she absently blew at her chin length hair, Nabiki questioned just what was keeping the two from admitting their feelings for one another. Akane's temper and Ranma's… ineloquence aside, it had been **two** years. Hell, less than a year before, they had been almost married… twice!

Despite neither wedding reaching its traditional conclusion (for which Nabiki was relieved – High School was _too _early to marry), that didn't detract from the truth that they were both willing to go through with it.

The middle Tendo loved her younger sister very much, and being honest with herself, she had to admit that she indeed loved Ranma, as an (insanely powerful, but often easily manipulated) little brother. But sometimes they made her feel like grabbing Kasumi's bo staff and bludgeoning the two until they came clean to each other. She never thought it could happen, but Nabiki sympathized with her father and Mr. Saotome. Getting Akane and Ranma to confess their mutual feelings was like trying to birth a particularly stubborn baby. It was tiring, it was messy, and you'd have to drag them through it kicking and screaming.

Nabiki wondered at her analogy for a moment. Deciding she'd have to stop eating snacks before bed, she turned over with an unfeminine grunt and tried to get to sleep.

She shot from her bed moments later, when she heard somebody tampering with one of the windows. With Ranma in the house and Kasumi occupied, unless Happosai had decided to end his welcome absence, someone was trying to break in.

Grabbing a bat (she didn't want to kill the intruder after all – okay, maybe if it was Happosai), Nabiki padded silently to her window, and unlatched it. Peering out, she saw through wind ruffled hair that the interloper had already entered the house, and that Kasumi's was the only open window.

Moving swiftly, the slid open her door a crack, and lithely stepped into the dark corridor. She crept through the darkness, noting that the intruder had turned on the light in Kasumi's room. Approaching slowly, she discerned hushed voices. More than one? The bat had been a good idea. She pressed her ear to the door… and sighed in relief. She slid open the door and entered the room.

"Hello, Granddaughter," greeted Cologne without looking up. Nabiki raised an eyebrow. Kasumi sighed, while the old woman answered her unasked question. "You forgot to mask your ki presence dear, nor did you search for ours," she added disapprovingly.

"Damn," grumbled Nabiki. "Should have been the first…" She looked to her sister, sitting listlessly on her mattress. "What's going – hell, your hand!" she hissed. "What happened, Kaz?"

"Your sister had a less than fortuitous run-in with one of daughter-in-law's more insistent suitors." Cologne allowed herself a chuckle as the sister's traded confused expressions at Ranma's new nickname. "I'm sure she'll tell you all about it," she forestalled further questioning. "Of greater immediate relevance is that Kasumi is currently unfit to perform tonight's sweep. I trust Nabiki, that you'll cover her responsibilities?"

"Hey," interjected the older sister from her seated position. "Not to revert back to 'Kasumi-oneechan', but it is a school night. Besides, I feel-"

"Christ, I'll live Kaz," cut in Nabiki. Kasumi's eyes narrowed.

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain, Biki." Rolling her eyes, the younger girl replied,

"You're the Christian here, not me."

"Which is why I'd appreciate it if you didn't blaspheme in front of me."

Cologne snickered to herself. These two were a treasure!

"Alright!" submitted Nabiki throwing her arms in the air. "Jesus," she mumbled quietly. Not quietly enough.

"I'll smack you," promised the long haired girl flatly. Nabiki staggered.

"No _way_ could you have heard that! Christ, all I said was - hey, ow!" squealed the younger sister as Kasumi cuffed her dead weight in the shoulder with her staff. "You bitch!"

"That's better," she smirked.

"As much as I'd love to stay and listen to you girls argue what is and what is not acceptable vulgarity," mused the Elder from beside her cane, "I'm not as young as I used to be,"

"And dogs say 'woof-woof'. What are you getting at?" -Bonk- Nabiki groaned.

"Enough of your lip, girl," the Elder admonished. "As I was saying," she threw the younger sister a warning look, "I can't stay here all night, and you have work to do. You, on the other hand," she turned to Kasumi, "are to get at least two days rest. Doctor's orders."

"Screw doctor's orders," breathed Kasumi quietly. Also not quietly enough. -Bonk-

"And to think I thought that Ranma was bad… Alright," she said dangerously. "_Ba-chan's_ orders. You understand that?"

"Okay, okay," agreed Kasumi hastily.

"If I hear you even _touched_ a weapon during that time…" she rasped ominously. Her tone lost its threat as she added, "Don't forget to employ the Amazon Wu-Shu healing techniques."

"Give me _some_ credit," Kasumi snorted. Nodding, Cologne perched on her staff, and used it to hop to the window.

"Be sure that she follows my instructions," she ordered Nabiki in lieu of goodbye, disappearing into the night.

"Well, aren't you going to tell me what happened?" asked Nabiki after a few moments of silence. Sighing resignedly, Kasumi nodded with her eyes.

"Alright. It began when,"

"Hold that thought," requested Nabiki. "I'll get my gear, and you can explain while I change."

---

What was that noise? thought a sleepless Akane. It seemed to have come from the hallway. She dismissed it. Probably nothing. Still…

With a moan, the raven-haired girl slipped out from her overly warm covers, and tip-toed to her bedroom door. It opened to reveal an empty corridor. Mentally berating herself her silliness, Akane turned to resume her insomnia. She paused, when she picked up on the faintest trace of a sound from downstairs.

Curious, she light-footedly threaded the stairway, the sound growing in volume. Akane was unprepared for the sight that befell her in the kitchen. On the cold, tiled floor, exactly where she had left her, was the curled up form of a still female and weeping Ranma. The girl was softly crying to herself,

"I'm sorry 'Kane. Swear I didn't lie. Please, I didn't. I'm so sorry…" With a gasp, Akane flew to her side, and knelt down next to the shivering redhead.

"Ranma, what are you doing, you dummy?" she whispered. Turning wet and bleary blue eyes to tired brown ones, Ranma bawled,

"Akane? I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't lie. I've never drank nothing' before in my like. 'Cept for that time with the play and Kuno…" Kuno?

Then it hit. The Tendo girl heaved a dry sob a she recalled her earlier phone conversation with the Amazon Matriarch.

---

"Moshi moshi."

Akane, is that you?

"Cologne-obaasan?"

Yes. Is your fiancé there?

"Ranma? Yes, he's here. Would you like to…?"

No that's fine. There's no need. Just warn him to be wary. Kodachi Kuno has been active tonight. Tell him to be on his guard.

"Oh, okay. I will."

Goodnight, dear.

"Goodnight."

---

It was damn obvious what had happened now that she actually _thought _about it. But of course, Akane ruminated, self-recriminating, that had never been her strong point. She gathered her still sobbing fiancé into a hug.

"Ranma. Oh god, I'm so sorry!"

"What? Akane, you didn't do nothing," mumbled the still drugged girl. "It's me who-"

"No, Ranma!" Akane stopped her. "You didn't do _anything_ wrong!" she insisted through a wail. "I'm such a slime."

"Don't cry, 'Kane," pleaded Ranma. "You ain't,"

"Yes, I am! I didn't even give you a chance. I'm a horrible person!" she insisted, hugging the smaller girl to her fiercely.

She held the hug for several more minutes, sniffing quietly, when a light snoring informed Akane that the redhead had fallen asleep in her embrace. Still, she noticed a distinct shivering in the girl's body. Being careful not to jostle her bundle, Akane cradled Ranma in her arms and headed upstairs, racked all the way by truly horrible guilt. As she opened her door, she absently noted light coming from Kasumi's room.

Pulling back the covers, Akane gently deposited her slumbering package into her bed. After firmly securing the quilt, she left her room again to check on Kasumi. She was startled when she heard voices from within the room. Unable to resist the temptation, Akane placed her ear to the door.

---

"Hell, I don't know what I'd have done in your shoes," admitted Nabiki. "What was going through your mind?"

"Let's just say that how I felt rhymes with 'cared witless' and is not acceptable language in civilized social circles," answered the older of the two in an anfractuous fashion.

"Damn," muttered the shorter girl, turning her back to her companion. "Zip me up?" Kasumi nodded and sat up. "I always knew she was crazy, but _crazy_ crazy?" Nabiki turned back and briefly inspected the contents of her purse. Satisfied everything was as it should be, she raised her arms and turned expectant eyes toward her sister. "How do I look?" she asked, modelling her outfit appropriately.

"Not exactly modest attire to be seen roof hopping in," remarked Kasumi. "Besides, I had planned on an external sweep tonight."

"I don't intend to be seen roof hopping. And internal sweeps are always much more interesting." Smirking, she added, "And I may as well be wearing a nun's habit compared to what you wore last week."

"What?" complained Kasumi. "I've got nice legs. What's wrong with showing them off?"

"Not_ that_ outfit," replied Nabiki while pulling on a waist length leather jacket.

"Then wh-…oh," she blushed. "That _was _a bit daring, wasn't it?"

"If you happen to be Courtney Love."

"That's not very fair, Biki," she groused.

"Neither was nearly giving that new bouncer a heart attack, but that didn't stop you," countered Nabiki. "Imagine if Doc Tofu had been here to see you? The poor guy would have had an aneurysm." Kasumi giggled, but there was a trace of wistfulness to her mirth. Silently, she appraised her younger sister.

"You good?"

"Yep. See you later," she said opening the window.

"Be safe, Biki."

"Safe, Kaz," she replied slipping out.

Kasumi's eyes shot to the door when she heard a light rapping. There was a muffled anonymous request from the other side. It escaped her how they could be so careless, especially after Cologne's earlier admonishment of Nabiki. No helping it now, she thought as she relaxed the ki 'gauze' in which she'd wrapped the room. She heard the words without difficulty.

"Can I come in, Kasumi-oneechan?" repeated by Akane from the other side. Kasumi looked between the door and her feet, and back again.

"Come in Akane-chan."

---


	6. Part 1o6

****

12.21am Monday, October 9th

Where in heaven's name was Ryoga? She had left him alone for only a few minutes and…well, he could just stay lost. She could enjoy herself without him.

Who was she fooling? The night was a bust. If she planned to open early as usual, which she did, she'd had best be leaving soon, anyway.

"Excuse me, miss?" asked an expressive voice as she left the vicinity of the dance floor. Turning, she was presented with a tall, fair-haired boy, perhaps a year or so older than she was. She noted that he was quite bishonen , though not as chiselled as Ryoga – or handsome as Konatsu.

"Yeah, bud, what can I do for you?" she asked, making an effort to hide her apathy.

"You could allow me the pleasure of buying you a drink," he answered suavely. She raised an eyebrow.

"No pick-up line?" He grinned and without pause eloquently rolled,

"If the heavens made anything more beautiful than you, they would surely have hoarded it for themselves." She rolled her eyes.

"Corny," she judged. He nodded amiably,

"I agree," he laughed, "After all, I did just make it up."

"I could tell." He smiled at her mild barb and added.

"Would you have preferred 'If this were a meat market, you'd be prime rib'?"

"Point taken," she sniggered, almost genuinely, and glanced at her watch. "What's your name?"

"Mikado," he introduced himself.

"A vodka and lime please, Mikado. Then we'll see how you do."

"I can't wait," he said sincerely.

---

"Akane-chan, were you eavesdropping?" asked Kasumi with a semblance of a frown. Sheepishly, the younger girl said,

"I didn't really hear anything, oneechan."

"That's doesn't excuse you for listening in on other people's private conversations imouto-chan," announced the elder girl tersely. "I'm very disappointed with you." Gaze lowered, Akane blushed in shame.

"Gomen, oneechan. I just…"

"Yes, dear?" prompted Kasumi, crossness dissolving.

"Where… where has Nabiki gone? I mean, it's after midnight and all…"

"Akane-chan," soothed Kasumi, "Your sister is an adult now. Where she goes is entirely her own business. I trust her to behave herself responsibly. Don't you think that you should, too?"

Resolve crumbling and suitably chastised, Akane turned to leave. Until she noticed something which gave her pause.

"Kasumi-oneechan, your hand! What happened? You have to see a doctor! We need -"

"Calm down. Calm down, Akane," Kasumi brought a halt to her babbling. "I just sprained my hand slightly carrying today's groceries. There's nothing to worry about," she assured. "But don't tell Father. You know how emotional he gets?" she asked rhetorically. "It will be fine in a day or so."

"If you say so, oneechan," answered Akane trustfully.

Seeing the opportunity to get something off of her chest Akane began, "Um, oneechan. I did something really bad tonight…"

"Go on," instructed Kasumi. "I don't believe that it will be as bad as you think it is."

"But it is!" Akane insisted. "I… I blamed Ranma for something he didn't do. And I wouldn't even listen to him when he tried to explain himself," she admitted.. "Not that I gave him much of a chance," she finished dejectedly.

"Akane, dear. We know you've always had a slight temper," even Akane winced at the sugar-coating, "But that you realize, and acknowledge that _you_ were at fault is a big step. Admitting it, even to me, is too," proclaimed Kasumi smiling proudly.

"Really?"

"Of course. But you must repeat what you've told me to Ranma. And try to make it up to him." Nodding vigorously, Akane answered,

"I will, oneechan. Definitely!"

"Good," adjudged Kasumi. "How does Ranma feel now?"

"Ah," hesitated Akane. "Right now, he's in bed." The wind abruptly stolen from her sails, Kasumi said,

"I suppose it wouldn't to do disturb Saotome-jiisan…"

"Oh, that's not a problem, oneechan," replied Akane confidently.

"And why is that, imouto-chan?"

"Because Ranma is in…er," Akane twiddled her thumbs together as she realized what she'd just committed herself to revealing. "Ranma's in… my bed right now."

Yatta! About time, figured Kasumi. What was Akane doing wasting time here?

"Akane-chan, that's not entirely proper," Kasumi mumbled, feeling horrid for the lie. Nabiki wasn't the only one who had to suffer to maintain the façade of 'normalcy'.

"Don't worry, oneechan. He's a girl right now," Akane informed her sister, praying that she wouldn't make her move Ranma. She'd sleep on the living room floor herself rather than do that, she resolved.

Seemingly lost in analysing the matter, Kasumi finally passed judgment.

"I suppose, in that case, it's alright, Akane-chan. But keep away from hot water." I'll be in here until sunrise, yelled Kasumi internally. Get some hot water, damnit! I dare you. You have all night.

"Thanks, oneechan," replied Akane cheerfully, pecking her on the cheek. "Goodnight."

As Akane left the room, Kasumi boggled that Akane hadn't thought to question why Nabiki had left through the window.

---

Sliding her door shut, Akane lightly approached her occupied bed. The slight figure had tossed off half the covers and lay there, curled on her side, sucking her thumb adorably. Loath to disturb her, but understanding the necessity. Akane quickly set out a spare pair of pyjamas.

Pulling back the covers completely, Akane effortlessly straightened out the small girl. Softly, she pulled off her thin black pants, revealing a pair of oversized green boxer shorts. She quickly folded them, and left them beside the bed. Getting Ranma's limp legs into the yellow pyjama bottoms was slightly more awkward, but she managed it without much difficulty.

Now came the real problem. Akane knew what would be awaiting her beneath Ranma's light blue tang. She shook her head at the surreal realization that she wished her fiancé would decide to wear a bra every once in a while. Steeling herself, Akane unfastened and mechanically removed the Chinese garment. Averting her eyes, she readied the cotton pajama shirt, and turned her gaze back to the comatose figure.

And I'm better built to boot.

How much damaged had been caused by those callous words? Akane had felt so betrayed for so long. Even after she'd come to… care for Ranma. Only recently had she accepted that they were just words born not of spite, but of frustration and anger. Things with which Akane could easily empathize. Akane had come to wonder if that wasn't the real betrayal of that night.

I'm Akane. You want to be friends?

She had uttered those words in sincerity, words she had taken all of an hour to go back on.

Looking back from Ranma's point of view, Akane could only imagine the helplessness he had felt then. Fate had decreed that the Saotomes arrive during a miserable, wet evening, and Ranma had been trapped in a position entirely outside of his control.

Often, she'd ruminate over how angry and confused at having the engagement, all but unannounced, to a stranger thrust upon her. Only in recent months had she tried to understand how her fiancé had felt. Thrust out of his vagabond life; all he'd known, and into a strange, unfamiliar, and thanks to Nabiki and her, hostile environment. Forced into a lifetime arrangement with somebody he'd only just met, who after offering friendship, near immediately spurned him.

The curse had been less than a month old then. She couldn't fathom the confusion, pressure, anger and despondency at having all this thrust on his young shoulders. People often seemed to forget that he had scarcely seventeen years to him name. Yet, despite this, the burden - the full responsibility of two families, repeatedly fell on his shoulders.

Akane smiled, her gaze moving to Ranma's peaceful face. Her eyes shone proudly. Regardless of everything, every obstacle that befell him, every enemy that beset him, he had always lived up to that responsibility with implacable determination.

With no further hesitancy, Akane smoothly slipped the redhead into the brightly coloured cotton garment. Carefully, she slid gently between the covers, facing the tranquil visage of her fiancé. Fingering a stray scarlet bang, Akane brushed the girl's brow tenderly, before placing a feather-light kiss on her forehead.

---

****

1.02am

'Should have gone home', thought Ukyo ponderously, as she sipped at her drink. Mikado seemed a nice enough guy, someone who she wouldn't mind meeting and chatting with again. But not much more. He just seemed somewhat pretentious. She found herself missing Ryoga's company even more so. She almost wished she'd asked Konatsu out instead. She had grown to enjoy his company

Absently nodding at some political observation from Mikado, Ukyo turned her sight to the still crowded club. She 'hmmed' as she made eye contact with a girl from her class. The 'goth girl', Miyo, looking rather less than gothic tonight, it would appear. Perhaps she could use her as means of distracting Mikado? She had to open for breakfast in four hours after all.

From the way the girl was eyeballing her, perhaps not, Ukyo re-evaluated. That stare had more to it than simple recognition. Breaking the overzealous eye contact as took a deep drink from her glass, Ukyo turned to Mikado, with no further intent of concealing her ennui.

What was that he said? 'Calling her a…'

"Hey, did you just compare me to a bonfire?" mumbled the chef. The hell? When had she gotten so drunk? This was only her third drink of the night.

Heh. Now he sounded like Kuno. "You have a radiant… corona," he said, her dulled senses missing the hungry gleam in his eyes.

"I do?" asked the brunette shakily, trying to buy time to gather her thoughts. She needed Ryoga, Miyo, anyone, to…

"Of course," he smiled, moving closer. "You're just like a shooting star," he said as he pressed his lips to hers.

---

"Hey, B," cheerily greeted the huge bouncer. Muscular nearly to the point of being grotesque, the tank-topped man's smile caused tendons to visible ripple in the cinder block that served as a neck. "Don't usually see you here on a Sunday night," he noted. "Dressed to kill, I see."

"What can I say, Ken-baby," she smirked casually. "I just can't stay away from you." He revealed several gold teeth as he unleashed a hideous, good-natured smile.

"Does that mean you're ready to reconsider your stance on my offer?"

"Got to go with the same answer as last time, Ken-baby," she replied adroitly.

"Alas, 'tis a trifling pity," he proclaimed theatrically, in deliberate imitation of another acquaintance of hers. "Forsooth, I would in thine stead, seek to garnish my purest attentions on thine august sister, she who is Diana of the moon, save t'would be certes that she tear me a new orifice in her maidenly, yet misguided indignation."

Smirking delightedly, Nabiki judged,

"Very good. You've been practicing, haven't you, Ken-baby?"

"Verily," he grinned. "And oddly sensitive of you to note so, mine fair and alleged maiden.

"Just because I don't care about your feelings and quirks doesn't mean I don't know they're there."

He shrugged, seemingly unaffected. Dropping the act, he asked

"So where is Ms. K, anyway?" with emphasis on 'Miz'. "Unlike her not to drop by on Sunday for a quickie."

"She feeling a little bit under the weather," Nabiki supplied with a withering glare.

"That time of the month?" he asked cheekily.

"You want to live?" she rejoined just as casually.

"Hey, I don't blame K for staying home. I hear that the cramps can be highly uncomfortable."

"Repeat that when you see her. For me," she asked. "You'll wish I _had_ killed you."

"Ah, but to die by your side would be such a heavenly place to die," he quoted jovially.

"I never figured you for a Smiths fan."

"People always make assumptions based on appearance," he intoned with faux grief. "Now I know how Joan of Arc felt." Nabiki rolled her eyes.

"Annoying bastard."

"I'll have you know my parents were unhappily married when that condom ripped."

"I truly don't want to get into a discourse on how you know this," she groaned.

"A lot of people don't want to get into a lot of things. For example,"

"Make the pain stop."

"Let's take the pop-idol industry."

"Let's not."

"Have you seen some of those vile outfits?" He whistled in condolence. "But then again, getting them out of them would be worth seeing them in them in the first place, if you know what I mean, B?" He whistled again, this time in apparent appreciation.

"I think I get what you're alluding to," she answered dryly. "Anyway, Kenji," she began; dropping the familiar suffix in indication that play time had ended. "Anything noteworthy tonight?"

Scratching at his Vandyke with an unadorned thumb, he reported,

"Nothing particularly worthy of mention comes to mind. A small few new patrons, no more than a dozen. Some pretty boy I haven't seen here in a while."

"Who?" she asked curtly.

Not displaying any reaction to the resulting information, but filing it away nonetheless, Nabiki instructed the muscled man to continue. "Not anything especially interesting. Maybe…" he trailed off inconclusively.

"I'm on a schedule here, Kenji," she rebuked impatiently. He affectedly pondered his answer before replying in a masterfully infuriating tone,

"Ah, forget it. Its nothing important."

Nabiki began to glow. Kenji held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Jesus, okay! No need to go 'objective' on me," he pleaded to the girl over whom he held a foot in height. "Damn, I guess it **is** that time of the month."

"Kenji," she bit off menacingly. He nodded hastily, and without any apparent change in his demeanour, lowered his voice slightly.

"Its just that I saw I couple of kids earlier tonight. I can't be sure, but I think…"

"You think what?"

"They might have been friends of yours. Well, not you in particular but your doomed brother-in-law."

That surprised Nabiki, and it also set her alarm bells ringing.

"Describe them to me," she ordered, "and _don't_ be vague."

--

Controlled ki convalesced at the heart of the injury. Kasumi sighed at the feeling. It if hadn't been for Ba-chan's techniques, contemplated the young woman, she would have been lit up like a Christmas tree. Of more relevance, she mused, if not the techniques, her hand would still have been a pulpy mess.

Even ignoring the oddly uncomfortable sensation, Kasumi couldn't help but fidget restlessly beneath her covers. Her thoughts returned to a very troubling subject.

Kasumi cursed herself as she grasped the menace she may have inadvertently released. Kodachi had always been a dangerous individual. Potentially a killer, felt Kasumi, even if the young Kuno lady herself failed to comprehend its consequences. To quote Nabiki, she had been 'a leotard-ed fruit loop with a penchant for poisons, but fairly easy to handle once you had her measure.'

While not entirely agreeing with that assessment (she had a ribbon too, thought Kasumi) the eldest Tendo girl realised that as unstable as she had been, 'The Black Rose' had proven to be nothing if not remarkably predictable. Due diligence was sufficient to curb any homicidal potential on _that _Kodachi's part.

The woman who Kasumi in her ignorance had uncovered was an entirely different matter. Bitter, covetous and chillingly angry… all a mask for a sad, lonely girl. The thing about masks, felt Kasumi, was that the longer one wore one, the more difficult it was to remove. The default Tendo matriarch knew this first hand, recalling how difficult it had been to realise that she wasn't her father's wife…

Vainly attempting to turn her reflections to less unsettling themes, the dark-eyed girl soon gave up and gathered her bo staff from its concealed pocket beneath her bed.

--

Good old Ryoga. The description had fit, but the leopard motif bandanna had clinched it. Of course, sighed Nabiki ruefully, that didn't exactly help much. The Lost Boy could be anywhere between Tokyo and Kuala Lumpur by now. Frustratingly, the other description wasn't anywhere near as conclusive.

"Well built. Long, dark hair. Blue eyes, I think. Stacked. About your height, B. Real hot. Did I mention she was stacked?"

'Well, thank you a whole hell of a lot, Kenji.' Always thinking with his crotch. That account could be used to describe Ukyo or (shudder) Kodachi as well as several other girls Nabiki knew. Assuming Ken had even recalled the eye colour properly.

If not, it could refer to just about any girl she knew who had a chest. Even Shampoo, now that she'd discontinued dying her hair that outlandish lavender hue. But why would the Amazon have been with Ryoga? Hell, why would anyone?

Okay, that was unfair, but Hibiki's ability to get lost on a Möbius Strip had the rather impactful result of slightly cutting down on his date-ability.

Nabiki frowned. Even one of the overpowered misfits would have drawn them like moths to a flame. Focusing, Nabiki extended her 'other' senses to encompass as much of the still busy nightclub as she could, without losing coherency. Her mind awash with new awareness, she searched.

"Oh, fuck."

--

****

2.13am

A raggedy towel did to wipe Kasumi's brow as she finished her impromptu training session. The tall girl would have preferred to practice on the roof but couldn't run the risk of alerting the slumbering house. A single misstep could have awoken the usually light sleeping Akane.

Halfway to the furo, her senses flared. Somebody strong – Nabiki – she surmised, was approaching the Tendo residence. Fast. And apparently uneasy from the way she was leaking energy.

She sensed no others, but the could be concealing themselves. Readying her weapon, Kasumi promptly made her way to the roof. This _wasn't_ training, and she _wouldn't_ stumble. She was prepared when her sister materialised beside her. She signed the question 'tail?' Nabiki shook her head, signing back. Kasumi's eyes widened.

"We should go inside."

--

****

2.23am

Kasumi quietly shut the furo door behind her and began to undress with her sister. In silence they stripped and scrubbed down with soap and cold water. After thoroughly cleaning away the sweat they had both managed to work up, they entered the steaming furo together. Nabiki broke the silent interregnum with a blissful sigh. She opened heavy eyelids to see her sister observing her expectantly, but patiently.

Nabiki exhaled and shut her eyelids title.

"Vampires?"

"If only," groaned Nabiki.

"Pariah?"

"_**Pariahs**_," corrected the eighteen year-old.

"I couldn't help but notice the pluralism," replied Kasumi, running her right hand through her free hair. She turned demanding eyes toward her sibling, summoning the will to make her tone flat. "That _was_ a slip of the tongue?"

"At least two," answered Nabiki concisely.

"At least?" With Ba-chan still recovering, she didn't relish the prospect of Nabiki and she taking on two by themselves. But more again…

Nabiki nodded, and grimaced.

"And one of them partook of a meal." Kasumi reflexively brought her hand to her mouth.

Woe plain on her face, the younger sister added,

"It gets worse." Kasumi motioned for her to continue. "The victim was likely someone we know." The water suddenly felt very cold

Kasmui steeled herself. "Do you know who?"

"I can't confirm it," answered Nabiki, her thoughts awhirl. She had stopped by the Ucchan's, which had been vacant. Not an especially uncommon occurrence, considering Nerima's sole Kuonji left town occasionally to attend various fine cuisine conferences that periodically set up shop (and kitchen) in irregular ports dotted about the nation.

Shampoo had seemed fine, and Nabiki hadn't deigned to grace the Kuno Estate with her presence. The middle Tendo spoke her conclusion. "But most likely Ryoga." Kasumi's heart sank. Behind that wall of anger and depression, Ranma's perennial challenger and friend was one of the most genuinely kind people she knew.

Quelling the desire to be evasive, she asked,

"Is he alive?" Nabiki's face fell.

"I couldn't tell from the latent aura scar," she informed her companion. "But what was taken would have killed either of us…" Kasumi bowed her head. Nabiki's tone hardened when she realised that her sister was praying for the boy's soul. "We don't know, Kasumi," she rebuked. "If any normal person could have survived that, it would have been him... Do you want to look for him? Tonight?"

"Why bother? We both know that its pointless."

"Please excuse me, sister. I was just over here busy having feelings."

Not another word was spoken for several minutes.

"At least two?" asked Kasumi again in a cold voice. Nabiki nodded again in confirmation, although Kasumi paid her no mind. The older girl held her left hand before her. It began to glow, suffused as it was with energy. "We're going out tomorrow night." There was no question in her tone.

"Ba-chan?" asked Nabiki.

"Ring and let her know. I'll think she'll make an exception for me in these circumstances," responded the taller as she unceremoniously stood and stepped out of the water. Nabiki didn't respond. "Goodnight."

--

****

4.05am

It was habit more than any sense of urgency that caused Konatsu to make a sweep of the surrounding area before entering the Ucchan. And now, as he cradled Ukyo in his arms, he blessed that same habit that had allowed him to find her, unconscious but alive, laying facedown in an alley some two hundred metres away from the restaurant. Long, bounding strides brought them closer to the nearest hospital. But Konatsu feared that whatever had happened to his Mistress - his best friend, was beyond mundane medical aid.

Her breath on his neck abruptly ceased and the Kunoichi wailed as he literally _felt_ the life begin to ebb out of the girl. Falling to his knees on a rooftop, the ninja hugged his love's limp form to his as he cried.

His grief was abruptly cut short as he felt a strange and deeply malevolent presence make itself known. Konatsu turned his tear smudged face to the dark form that appeared from within the unsettling miasma.

He sobbed as he glanced back down at Ukyo's drawn face.

"She's going to die, girl," declared the figure in a deep voice.

"No…" gasped Konatsu, knowing that it was true. "I love her! She can't -"

"I can save her."

"What?" replied Konatsu, new hope animating him.

"I said that I can save her," repeated the sinister voice. "For a price."

"What price?" demanded Konatsu, desperation prevalent in his tone. Although its face was concealed in shadow atop the roof, a malign smile seemed visible on it face.

"I assume that she would want you to assume authority of her affairs in this situation?" Sneered the voice.

At that moment, Konatsu's mind flipped as a horrible possibility presented itself.

"Was it you? Was it you who did this to her?"

"No," came the answer. "I don't do _that_," it added almost distastefully. "Now, answer the question," it demanded.

"Yes," implored Konatsu, not caring if Ukyo would have hoped for Ranma to be the one to make this this decision. "I don't care what you want from me. Just save her! Please!" he begged.

"It's a deal, girl. Put her down," instructed the figure approaching closer. Not much taller than Ukyo, with features unknown to the ninja, the 'man' knelt down smoothly. "We haven't much time to save your pretty chef." Experienced eyes glanced at Konatsu. "Just know that afterward, both of you must leave Nerima for a time."

"Is that your price?" asked Konatsu as the man placed his righthand on Ukyo's form.

"That's just a fact of life," sniggered the man, scratching at his clean-shaven face. "But the price… that's where it gets interesting."


End file.
